Across the Stars, Book I: When You Believe
by Aleine Skyfire
Summary: A secret, a crash, a loss – so soon after Anakin and Padmé's wedding, a tragedy pushes their marriage to the breaking point. Meantime, Obi-Wan and an old friend seek out the missing couple and deal with their own relationship. Formerly "The Rising Sun".
1. Prologue: The Crash

**Author's Note:**

Hi there! This is my very first _published_ SW fanfic (I've had pieces of various others on my hard drive for 3.5 years). This story was on one of my blogs, and it actually led someone to start reading my other fanfics, so I decided I'd dig out this fic, polish it up a bit, and post it _officially_ here on FF-dot-Net.

This story has been near and dear to my heart for a _long_ time, and it's time people got the chance to see it.

**==Across the Stars==**

**The Rising Sun**

A secret, a separation, a crash, a tragedy… can Anakin's and Padmé's recent marriage survive? So soon after their marriage, a terrible tragedy pushes their relationship to the breaking point.

There is hope for the family in the future, if only they can survive this…

**==Prologue==**

**The Crash**

"Hold on tight, Padmé!"

Padmé nodded wordlessly, gritted her teeth, and clutched at the armrests of her seat till her knuckles were white. She forced her eyes to stay open though reflex told her to squeeze them shut.

Sweat broke out on Anakin's face. His hands clenched the steering yoke of the shuttle so tightly that the servos in his mechno arm protested. His fear heightened his grip on the Force, and he called upon the Force to hold the ship relatively steady as it veered down to the planet's surface in crash collision.

The atmosphere buffeted them hard. Thank God that the inertial compensator, unlike most of the ship's systems, hadn't failed. If it had, he and Padmé would have been crushed by now.

Padmé. So recently his wife. He was her guardian – he had to protect her. To save her from any and every danger.

His grip on the Force slipped and the shuttle careened. He desperately tried to grab hold of it again, but it was too late. The mountains filled the viewport.

"Anakin!" Padmé cried, hand flying instinctively to her still-flat abdomen.

"_Hold on_!" he repeated.

Seizing the armrests again, Padmé's eyes squeezed shut, not in fear now but in desperate prayer. _Father in Heaven, keep us safe! Keep us safe! Keep us safe..._

"We're almost there!" Anakin gritted out.

The ground rushed up to meet them violently, and their crash-webbing could not restrain them. Both were hurled forward at the control consoles, and their world went black.

* * *

Pain was the first thing he was aware of.

His body was full of pain. It seemed that every muscle and bone in his body ached. His mechno arm was strangely numb. Something warm and wet plastered his forehead, where a sharp pain throbbed.

He opened his eyes and groaned. The protective shell of his right arm was gone, shattered by the crash's impact.

The next thing he saw was that he was gracelessly spread out over the console. Then he tilted his head just enough to see Padmé – she was spread out over the console, too, but still unconscious.

"Padmé?" he tried. His voice was shaky. He pushed himself up, grimacing as he realized that not only did his bones ache, but his left collarbone was fractured, too. _Oh, this is good_.

"Padmé." Still no answer. She was out.

The cockpit was a mess – it looked literally as if a tornado had run through it. Damaged equipment lay between him and Padmé, who was only about four feet away. Slowly, carefully, he pulled himself onto and over the twisted pile, his collarbone protesting cruelly. He eased over to her side and…

_Blast__! If I lift her, my shoulder is going to go_. He clenched his damaged right hand into a durasteel fist. _Okay, okay, just use the Force_.

He reached out for the Force and directed it towards his wife. Her body slowly rose off the console, and backward into his right arm. She sagged into him, her head lolling up to face him. Blood snaked out of the right corner of her open mouth. Her whole left cheek was one blackish-purple bruise. Anakin winced. This was probably nothing compared to the time that that nexu had ripped her back open in the Geonosian arena, but… Wounded was wounded.

"Padmé," he said again, kissing her. "Padmé," he said louder, "it's time to wake up."

Her body shuddered before her eyes fluttered open. "Ani," she whispered in a shaky breath. She frowned and feebly reached up to his face. "Your forehead. It's covered with blood."

"Just a cut," he assured her. _Blood… I should have known it was blood_.

"My chest… hurts. Ribs… I think a couple are broken." She coughed, and cried out in pain.

Anakin felt fear spike in her. "What's wrong?" he demanded, blue eyes wide and concerned.

He felt her try to tamp down her fear as she replied, "It's nothing. I'm just – worried."

Not, reassured, he frowned but let it go as he looked up and around. "I've gotta get you outta here. This thing is gonna blow soon. I'll get you out, then I'll get out the emergency packs."

"Make sure you get my travel case," Padmé urged.

_Her travel case?_ "Padmé, the emergency packs are a little more important than your wardrobe."

"Anakin!" Her voice was sharp – she'd never spoken to him like that before. He wasn't even sure that he'd ever even heard her use that tone. Just as his temper was about to flare, he realized something: her sense in the Force radiated fear. "Please," she pleaded softly, "just trust me. Do as I say."

Anakin nodded, confused inside. He supposed that he'd just never understand women, just like Gilraen Starrider said. "Can you stand?"

"I think if you're helping me…"

With the help of the Force on Anakin's part and prayer on Padmé's, the young couple managed to make it about a hundred meters from the shuttle. Padmé rested on a fallen tree while Anakin quickly retrieved her travel case and the emergency packs. He had to make two trips, and as he left the hatch the second time, he felt a surge of warning in the Force. He broke into a dead run, and made it about halfway to Padmé before the shuttle exploded. The force of the blast blew him down to the ground.

"_Anakin!_" Padmé's scream was lost in the roar of the fire.

She felt a sudden reassurance in the Force. _I'm okay. I'll come when it's safe for me to get up_.

Padmé nodded to her husband's telepathy, and then remembered that he couldn't see the gesture. _Be careful_.

She felt a telepathic boyish grin, and had to smile in reply. _Aren't I always?_

As long as Anakin was safe, Padmé would to get in the playful last word. _No comment_.

The whole galaxy could be exploding around them, just so long as Anakin was still okay. That was all that mattered. Well, _that_, and then the other…

* * *

**Author's Note – WARNING:**

This thing is MAJOR AU. ¿_Comprende_? I mean, there are no words to describe just how MASSIVELY AU this story is!

**1.** From here, the Star Wars saga changes dramatically. ...Most AUs do this, though, so that's not so bad.

**2.** In _this_ AU, the GFFA has a link to Earth – it's part of my old backstory that I never fully fleshed out, and it's just something that would be really hard for me to take out now. Anyway, it's fun, having the characters know Earth stuff. When this fic begins, it's 23BBY in the GFFA, and A.D. 1989 on Earth. *winks*

**3.** Because of the link to Earth… well, that justifies something that Kathy Tyers actually suggested, via the Sunesi, in _New Jedi Order: Balance Point_: the existence of a Creator. In this story, that's fleshed-out into something more Christian. Hopefully, whether you agree with that or not, you'll continue to read the story and enjoy it in spite of the occasional Christian tone. If not, well, I'm sorry to lose you on the very first installment of the fic. =( But it's something that's an intrinsic part of my story and myself – I can't change that.

All that being said, you know the drill: **Read and Review~!**


	2. Day 1: A New Hope

**Author's Note:**

Wow, I got a lot of story alerts just on that little prologue, and even a fave! Thanks, guys!

I know that I said in my previous author's note that this story happens in the Earth year 1989. I take that back. That worked for the old version of the story, but it doesn't work for this one. I'm upping the date to _1999_, and the fact that it's the same year as TPM release is purely coincidental.

**To My Reviewers:**

A Lady: Thank you for the encouragement! I certainly have no intention of stopping the story – I'm stickin' to it~! ;D As for the direction, well… there's a surprise or two waiting, and maybe a twist here and there…

Mo Angel: That's a valid question. Characterization, though, is my obsession, and I've spent a few years playing with these characters in my stories. I've also seen enough fanfics in which characters aren't exactly true to their nature, and I think I can avoid that. You're going to see the faith of certain characters evident (I can think of only two characters from the prequels that would be Christian if they could be), and others struggling with belief. It's not the main theme, but it's still important to the story.

**==Day One==**

**A New Hope**

The fire had died down, so Anakin lit them own small campfire with his lightsaber. They had crashed around midday here, and the sun now hung low in the west.

Padmé leaned against a tree, wrapped up in blankets like a mummy. Anakin was struggling with the tent, which kept trying to fold in on itself. Watching him, Padmé wanted to giggle but knew it would only harm her. She could still smile, though.

Anakin turned to her and glared. "You think this is funny?" he demanded, exasperated. The tent caved again.

Padmé couldn't stop the giggle this time, much as it hurt. Smiling despite the pain, she gasped out, "Most powerful Jedi ever, and he can't even set up a little tent."

"And you could?"

Padmé managed a tiny shrug. "I would if I could, but I can't."

Looking away, Anakin returned to his task. "Obi-Wan always -_grunt_- always helped _-grunt-_ me before."

"Mm-hmm."

The tent fell back out of Anakin's grip – diving for it, he lost his balance. Padmé bit back another giggle. Anakin pulled himself up, careful of his broken collarbone, then let out a frustrated snarl and kicked at the fabric. "Stupid thing!" he growled. He turned to his wife and said, "A little help?"

Padmé raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly down at her cocooned self.

"But do you know how to set this up?" Anakin persisted.

"Sure. I would watch Dad do it when he took us camping."

"You knew all along and didn't tell me?"

"I thought that you'd have had it figured out by now!"

"You thought I'd... thanks a lot, Padmé!"

Once Padmé started directing Anakin, the tent rose quickly. The Jedi Padawan then set to making dinner.

* * *

"Well," Padmé said with a straight face, "If you can't set up tents, at least you can cook."

Anakin threw her an extraordinarily rare long-suffering look. "Open up, Your Ladyship."

Padmé obediently opened her mouth for Anakin to feed her another chunk of meat. "Seriously, this is –"

"No talking with your mouth full," Anakin admonished playfully. "Come on, you've been to etiquette school."

Padmé threw him a mock-icy glare and swallowed. "Don't rebuke me when I'm complimenting you."

A lopsided grin spreading across his face, Anakin settled easily back on his haunches. "Oh, well then in that case."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "I was just going to say how delicious the meat was," she muttered.

Anakin's grin grew wider. "'Not too heavy on the garlic – just enough to taste it.'"

"You sounded like you were quoting," Padmé noted.

"An admirable observation." Anakin bowed theatrically, then straightened. "Dexter Jettster said that. He taught me how to cook, since Obi-wan, umm..." He waved his left hand expressively.

Padmé grinned with understanding and thought that if her husband's grin got any wider, his face would split.

* * *

Exhausted and ready to sink into a healing trance, Anakin snuggled in the sleeping bag next to Padmé. He was on the verge of sleep when Padmé murmured, "Ani?"

"Mmm?" came his sleepy reply.

"Ani, there's something I need to tell you."

Anakin opened his eyes. "What, honey?"

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened her eyes, stared into his own. "I'm... Anakin, I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Staring at his wife in shock, Anakin shifted in the sleeping bag so that his elbow supported his weight. "You're going to have a baby?"

Padmé smiled. "That's generally what being pregnant means," she quipped. "And he's _your_ baby, too."

Anakin felt his face beam in delight and wonder. _I'm gonna be a father – Force, I _am_ a father! _"Wait a minute – _he_? How do you know it's a boy?"

She grinned. "I don't… for sure. But I hope."

"How long have you been pregnant?"

She stared at him. "You know what today's date is, and you know what day we were married. _You_ do the math."

"Two _months_? You've been pregnant for two months, and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't know for sure until a month ago," she explained. "Then, I wanted to wait for the trip home from the negotiations to tell you so that we could celebrate _after_ work."

"Oh." _Good one, Skywalker_. That_ sounded inane_.

"Mm. I'm due early next spring."

"Around my birthday?" Anakin asked hopefully.

"Third month, not the second."

Anakin grinned. "Okay, _early_ birthday present."

Padmé grinned back. "Maybe by then, Dan and Gilraen will have made some progress with the Jedi Council on the celibacy issue."

Dan and Gilraen Starrider were Corellian Jedi and friends of Anakin. Two years ago, they had become the first Corellian Jedi married couple in several centuries – rules were a bit different for the Corellian brand of Jedi. Almost a year ago, Gilraen gave birth to a son, Beren. The young couple, backed by Master Nejaa Halcyon and Dan's father Master Keeth Starrider, were now lobbying for Jedi celibacy to be abolished, a matter that was being largely ignored by the Jedi Council on account of the more pressing war.

Anakin snorted derisively. "Right, and the war will be over, too. Don't think it'll happen that quick, Pad."

She shrugged slightly. "We'll navigate that asteroid field when we come to it."

He nodded. "Just for tonight, there's no war or Jedi. Just you, me, and our baby."

"Our baby boy," Padmé corrected, grinning.

"Our baby boy," Anakin grinned back.

_We're having a baby,_

_My baby and me~!_

"My Baby and Me" (old song)

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Waitwaitwait, a _baby_? Awww!

Okay, I had to share this, because it's pretty funny. A couple of years ago, when my cousin read this chapter, he gave me this review:

-The finer qualities of setting up a tent. Some assembly required.

-Anakin: "All too easy."

-... :D ... :| ... :|... :o ... :O ... o_0 ... x-( ...

-Anakin: "The Force is strong with THIS one..."

…Lol!


	3. Day 2: Hopes Live and Die

**Author's Note:**

Big shout-out to Historian 1912 – without his feedback, I wouldn't have posted this story here. Here's lookin' at you!

The idea for this chapter and the crux of half of this fic came from two of Darth Ishtar's (theForce-dot-net) fanfics: "Heartache on My List" and _The Other Half, Part 2: The Dying of the Light_.

**To My Reviewers:**

L.A. Girl: Unfortunately, there was no "space" in this chapter for a tent mishap – glad you enjoyed it so much, though! Maybe in the future…

**==Day Two==**

**Hopes Live and Die**

_And we all dream our cherished dreams_

_And we hope for and long for_

_So many things…_

– Joanna Carlson, "Never Dance Alone"

Their camp was near the edge of a vast lake. On the distant side, mountains rose majestically to touch the gauzy pink clouds of dawn.

The Skywalkers had woken early. After bundling Padmé against the same tree, Anakin set to making breakfast. Strangely, Padmé was hurting today more than yesterday, but she hadn't told Anakin that yet.

"You want pancakes?" he asked her.

Padmé exhaled a disbelieving laugh. "Ani, we need to be rationing this stuff," she reminded him. "You shouldn't be getting fancy."

Anakin cocked his head. "You weren't complaining about it last night."

"I didn't remember last night. Just make something simple – I'll be okay."

Anakin gave her a thoughtful once-over and nodded. "If you say so."

Padmé turned her attention to the sun rising over the trees. It was beautiful. She was so absorbed in it that Anakin had to wave his hand in front of her face. "He-llo? Coruscant to Padmé – come in, Padmé."

She turned back to him and gave him a dazzling smile. "Yes, husband mine?"

Anakin held up a bowl of porridge. Atop the porridge were two eggs and a piece of bacon to form a smile. Padmé rolled her eyes. "Ani!"

"Hey, don't forget you're eating for two now, Mama-girl," he teased. Then he stopped and frowned mock-thoughtfully. "I wondered why you were eating so much at that reception."

"Anakin!"

"Open up."

Padmé rolled her eyes again and obeyed. After the first bite, she looked beyond Anakin at the cooking gear. "Where's your breakfast?"

Anakin looked down, suddenly fascinated with the scuff-marks on his boots.

"Oh, Anakin, you need to eat, too!"

"Not necessarily!" he protested. "I'm a Jedi – I use the Force. I can go for a couple days without food. _I'm_ not the one who really needs to eat."

"Anakin –"

"No, Padmé," he said, his voice suddenly firm and commanding.

Padmé stared at him in surprise: she had never heard that tone of voice before. Before… well, she was the elder of them, and the wiser, and he generally listened to her. To have those positions suddenly switched felt awkward, but it felt right at the same time. He was the head of their family. She slowly nodded her submission.

"Anyway," began Anakin, his voice softening, "I'm going to start hunting for meat and searching for edible plants. It could be weeks before someone comes for us, so I have to be planning for the meantime."

Padmé voiced the fear that both had secretly held. "What no one ever comes?"

Anakin locked eyes with her, his cerulean gaze electric. "Then we start over – here."

That was the _last_ thing Padmé had expected to hear. "What?"

"Padmé, we can do it. Start a new life for ourselves here. This area is rich in resources. We can build ourselves a log cabin, grow a garden, raise a big family… We can do it."

"Anakin!" Padmé exclaimed, incredulous.

His eyes took on a distant look as he stared out across the lake. "And when we have a lot of kids, we can go mining for metals, and shape them… Maybe someday, our kids will have built something space-worthy – and our family will be free again." He returned his attention to her, childlike excitement in his eyes. "We can build our own civilization – right here on the edge of the Unknown Regions." Then, as if it had just hit him: "I can even start our own Jedi Order!"

Laughing still hurt, but Padmé laughed anyway. "Anakin Skywalker – you…!" She laughed again. "You're crazy, Skywalker!"

Anakin pretended to be taken aback. "Really, Padmé, I'm hurt."

Padmé shook her head, still grinning. "The craziest part is that I think you could be right."

Anakin's grin lit up the camp. He stood up, ignited his lightsaber, and raised it high. "I claim this land forever to be the Skywalkers'!" he declared, half-playfully, half-seriously. "And we'll call it…" He closed his eyes, searching for a good name. "Beltaine."

"Beltaine?"

"That's what they called the first day of one of the spring months in Erin," Anakin explained. "Gilraen told me that."

"Erin… that was the name for ancient Ireland, wasn't it?"

Anakin nodded. "I'd say that it's about regional fourth month right now—it looks like mid-spring."

Padmé nodded her agreement. "Beltaine – I like it."

Anakin theatrically brandished his saber in the air. "King and Queen Skywalker do hereby forever name this world Beltaine."

"Am I supposed to cheer?" Padmé asked dryly.

Anakin gave her half a glare. "Very funny."

* * *

Padmé was worried. It was late afternoon, and she had been discharging blood little by little all day. By lunchtime, she'd told Anakin, and now he was worried, too. Neither of them voiced the fear that something would happen to the baby – neither wanted to concede the possibility.

Suddenly, Padmé felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. "Anakin!" she cried.

He flew to her side, his face white. "I know," he whispered.

Tears welled up in her wide brown eyes and rolled down her face. "I think… I think…"

Anakin pressed his finger to her lips. "I know," he repeated, his own tears falling. He pressed his wife's trembling body against his own in a tight embrace.

She sobbed into his chest. "Oh, Anakin… Anakin…"

"Padmé, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

They cried together.

* * *

It was over by the time the setting sun was swallowed up in leaden grey clouds.

Padmé had cried herself to sleep.

It was midnight, and Anakin couldn't sleep. Not wanting to disturb his wife, he left the tent and stood out at the water's edge, trying to let the pre-storm wind calm him. But no calm came.

He felt racked with guilt and loss, anger festering in his tortured heart.

As it had when his mother died.

As his shoulders began to shake again, he put his left hand over his mouth, then moved it up to cover his eyes. _God, why? Why did You take our child? He was just a baby – why did You…_

The father collapsed to his knees in a storm of tears and pounded the ground so hard that his whole mechno arm hurt. He welcomed the pain, tried to concentrate on the pain in his arm rather than the pain in his soul.

He had felt the baby die. It had been like a light going out, inside both Padmé's womb and Anakin's own heart. He had been powerless to stop it. _Why couldn't I save him?_

"_Sometimes there are things no one can fix... You're not all-powerful Anakin."_

"_Well, I should be. Someday, I will be the most _powerful Jedi ever!_ I promise you: I will even learn to stop people from dying!"_

Anakin turned back to the tent. "I'm sorry, Padmé. We _will _survive this. We _will _get another chance… I _promise_."

It began to rain.

_Some things, we can't change_

_No matter how hard_

_We've tried_

_And we've failed_

_Seems there's nothing to do but endure_

_Life is not easy_

_And pain is no stranger_

_And we're constantly faced_

_With the choice to embrace or to run_

_Oh, but there's strength when we run in_

_To Love's faithful arms_

_And we find hope again... and_

_Until the day we see His face_

_We will never know all the whys_

_But the questions we carry are gonna be erased_

_When we see the love in His eyes_

_And the hands that hold our hopes and dreams_

_Reach out to welcome us Home_

_But for now we can know_

_That we never really dance alone_

– "Never Dance Alone"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I know, it's… cruel. Not only to the Skywalkers, but to you readers, who were probably getting excited about them having a baby. But… things like that _happen_, you know? Padmé was pretty beaten-up from the crash, and such occurrences are very likely to generate miscarriages.


	4. Day 3: Every Heart That Is Breaking

Okay, so far, I have grand total of five reviews, which isn't so bad for a young fic and an author who's new to writing in the Star Wars fandom. But I cannot _stress _just how _much _**I LOVE REVIEWS!** Let me at 'em!

**To my reviewers:**

Angie: Thank you! …You know, I think I kind of _instinctively_ keep myself distanced from what Anakin and Padmé are feeling as parents who've lost a child. I'm young, but I love children – _especially_ babies – and it would break my heart to really put myself in their place.

**==Day Three==**

**Every Heart That Is Breaking**

There was now a small slab of stone set into a spot of freshly-turned, damp earth.

"I'm sorry."

That was the fifth time that day she had heard him say that, and she had had _enough_. She folded her arms and glared at him, brown eyes flashing with anger. Her voice was tight and icy enough to put a night out on Hoth to shame. "_Don't_. Say that. _Again_."

Anakin's expression was that of a lost little boy. "I'm –" He caught himself. "I won't."

The anger in Padmé's eyes melted into hot tears. She gasped out choked sobs and rubbed viciously at her eyes.

It tore Anakin's heart – he had never seen his angel in so much pain. When his mother died, Padmé had been his support, his comfort. And though he was grieving as much as she was, _he_ now supported and comforted _her_.

It wasn't support or comfort when he apologized to her. But he couldn't cleanse his heart of the guilt.

Or the hate.

Just yesterday morning, he had been excited as he told Padmé about his dreams for Beltaine. There was no more excitement, no more dreams. What had once been an opportunity was now a vast, albeit confining**,** prison. He hated Beltaine. Here, his firstborn – no, first _child_, not first_born_ – had died.

"I hate it!" he finally shouted.

Padmé's expression past her tears was questioning.

"This!" he shouted, turning away, waving his arm as if to encompass the entire planet. "_I hate it!_"

"What are you going to do, destroy _it_ like you destroyed those Tuskens?" Padmé challenged, her voice acidic.

Anakin turned back to her, grey-blue eyes storming wildly. _How _dare_ she?_

"_Don't_ you look at _me_ that way, Anakin Skywalker," Padmé ordered, her voice fully a Queen's.

"_Don't ever_ mention those Tuskens _again_, Padmé Naberrie," he returned, his frigid tone belying the roiling anger inside. "You hear me? _Never_."

Neither of them could help but wonder how they would survive if they'd be at each other's throats like this.

Then Anakin began to cry. He collapsed to the ground beside her, and she pulled his head to rest on her shoulder. Today was his turn to be comforted.

"Ani," she murmured, "the baby's in heaven. He – and your mother – are in Heaven. You _have_ to believe that. God's in control."

Anakin's heart rebelled violently. "What kind of _loving_ God would let an unborn child die?"

"The same God who wept with two sisters at the tomb of their brother… the same God who brought that brother back to life." Padmé felt her spirit grow calmer as she voiced her beliefs. "There's a reason for everything, Anakin, but we won't know all the reasons until we reach Heaven. Even then, we won't know _all_ of them. We just have to trust in God, that He knows what He's doing."

Padmé's voice began to calm Anakin's grief-wracked soul. He didn't share her faith. She had to believe for both of them. He just couldn't trust God like that – not now, not yet.

She began to sing softly:

_For the young abandoned husband_

_Left alone without a reason_

_For the pilgrim in the city where_

_ there is no home_

_For the son without a father_

_For his solitary mother_

_I have a message~_

_He sees you, He knows you_

_He loves you, He loves you_

_Every heart that is breaking tonight_

_Is the heart of a child that He_

_ holds in His sight_

_And oh how He longs to hold_

_ in His arms_

_Every heart that is breaking tonight~_

_For the precious, fallen daughter_

_For her devastated father_

_For the prodigal who's dying_

_ in a strange new way_

_For the child who's always hungry_

_For the patriot with no country_

_I have a message~_

_He sees you, He knows you_

_He loves you, Jesus loves you_

_Every heart that is breaking tonight_

_Is the heart of a child that He_

_ holds in His sight_

_And oh how He longs to hold_

_ in His arms_

_Every heart that is breaking tonight~_

It was only late afternoon, but Anakin slept on his wife's shoulder. Padmé hummed for a few more minutes before she, too, fell asleep. Physically and emotionally exhausted, they slept till the next morning.

* * *

"Master Obi-Wan, share do I your anxiety. But permit you to go just yet, I cannot." Yoda sat perched upon a boulder in the Room of a Thousand Fountains in the Jedi Temple.

Obi-Wan leaned forward from his own stone seat, his normally mild blue eyes intense. "Master, that boy is _my _Padawan. _My _responsibility. At the risk of sounding like Qui-Gon, I _am _going, regardless of permission."

Master Yoda huffed, frustrated.

"_You _felt the tremors in the Force," Obi-Wan continued. "Many Masters did. Whatever has happened to Anakin and Pa – Senator Amidala – is very serious. They haven't contacted us in nearly four days!"

"Afraid are you, Obi-Wan?"

And that was the ugly truth: Obi-Wan Kenobi _was_ afraid. If something were to happen to Padmé – so soon after Geonosis and the death of Anakin's mother – who knew _how _Anakin would react or what he would do. Neither he nor Padmé had volunteered any details on what had happened after Shmi Skywalker's death, but Obi-Wan didn't need the Force to tell that something had gone very, _very _wrong. "Yes," he said frankly.

Yoda sighed.

A memory flashed through Obi-Wan's mind…

"_Qui-Gon's defiance I sense in you. Need that, you do not... Agree with you, the Council does. Your apprentice, Skywalker will be."_

The Jedi Knight shook his head.

"Master Yoda, if Obi-Wan doesn't go find Anakin, _I_ will," said a familiar female voice. Obi-Wan twisted around on his stone to see an equally familiar female come out from behind a cluster of shrubs over to them.

"Siri!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.

"Master Siri," Yoda sighed, shaking his head, "too old you are to be eavesdropping."

Siri Tachi shrugged and bit back a grin. "I didn't mean to. I was reading back there when you two came in. I'd have to be _deaf _not to hear you."

Obi-Wan shook his head – some things never changed.

"I mean it, though," Siri continued, "what I said about finding Anakin. I felt those tremors, too. Whatever happened to Anakin and the Senator was not good at all."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "I'd be most grateful for your assistance, Siri."

Yoda eyed the two Jedi Knights. "In the midst of a war, we are. To spare two Knights to search for one Padawan and one Senator, difficult would be."

"With both of us looking, it shouldn't take that long," Obi-Wan reasoned.

"Besides, we _need_ the Chosen One and the Senator of Naboo," Siri added. "We can't do without the aid of either for long."

"Very well," Yoda conceded. "Go, you may. But quick you must be."

Obi-Wan stood, and both Knights bowed. "Yes, Master," they said in unison.

"May the Force be with you."

In the hall, Obi-Wan turned to Siri, noting that she no longer wore her characteristic brown unisuit but cream-colored traditional Jedi attire. "Thank you for the help, Siri."

One corner of her mouth pulled back. "Well. It sounded like you needed it."

Obi-Wan conceded that with a nod. "Can you be ready by tomorrow?"

"First thing, tomorrow morning?" she asked, glancing out a window at the night traffic of Coruscant.

He nodded again.

"I'll be ready," she nodded back, and strode away, her blond hair bouncing with each step.

Obi-Wan watched her go, something like a flicker of memory playing across his face.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

SIRI. Siri Tachi is right up there with Mara Jade and Ahsoka Tano. Pure win!

Credits for Padmé's song: "Every Heart That Is Breaking," by Twila Paris.


	5. Day 4: Rain

**Author's Note:**

One more chapter, and then I'll run out of my prewritten chapters and will have to write more. I'm not exactly looking forward to that. *sighs* Oh well. This fic won't be all that long, anyway. Maybe twenty chapters, but probably all of those chapters will only be as long as you've encountered thus far.

The sequel might be longer, but I don't know. I guess we'll see. *winks*

Oh, and I LOVE _reviews_!

**To my reviewers:**

…Things get worse before they get better. But this is an important time for all four of them.

**==Day Four==**

**Rain**

"_We don't have time to discuss this in a committee!"  
_

"_I am NOT A COMMITTEE!__"  
_

- Han Solo and Princess Leia, _The Empire Strikes Back_

Obi-Wan leaned against Siri's doorframe. "All packed?"

"Just a sec." She stuffed a hairbrush into her duffel and zipped the bag up. Then she slung on her backpack and hoisted the duffel. "'Kay, that's it. Let's go."

Their ship was a CEC YT-1300f light freighter, a disk-shaped ship with two short "mandibles" in front, and a cockpit reminiscent of an eyeball jutting out just behind one of the mandibles. It was roughly 35 meters long and 25 meters wide, and about 7 meters high.

"_That's_ our ship?" Siri asked, unimpressed.

Obi-Wan smirked slightly. "She mightn't be much to look at, but she's fast and reliable."

"Obi-Wan, she's forty years old!" Siri protested. "Even _I_ can see that!"

Obi-Wan gave a theatrical sigh and opened the ship's ramp. "After you, ma'am." He bowed and gestured invitingly.

Siri rolled her eyes and marched up the ramp. "Thanks. So, what's this piece of junk called?"

"The _Millennium_."

"Oh, so she's a _thousand _years old?"

"Ha-ha. Don't look at me - I didn't name her." Obi-Wan sat in the pilot's chair and motioned for Siri to take the copilot's seat. "Oh, and by the way, she's not forty yet - she's thirty-seven."

"Do I really care?"

Obi-Wan didn't look up from running the flight check. "Touchy today, aren't we?"

"_I'm_ touchy," she corrected. "_You're_ Mr. Stoic."

"_Stoic_?" he echoed, now turning to her and lifting an expressive eyebrow.

"Unflappable, imperturbable... whatever."

"Yes, I get the picture, thank you."

The _Millennium _rumbled to life and gracefully entered the predawn skylanes. Once out of the atmosphere, Siri turned Obi-Wan and asked, "So, where to, first?"

"Kios," he replied, keying in the hyperspace coordinates. "That's where Anakin and Padmé were five days ago, on an ambassadorial mission."

"You're on a first-name basis with the Senator?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Sort of. Anakin is." He pulled down on the lever, blasting them into hyperspace.

"Don't you think that's dangerous, sending two young people of the opposite sex off together alone?"

"And un-chaperoned?"

"Yeah."

"Anakin wouldn't do 'that,' and neither would Padmé, no matter how attracted they might be toward each other."

"They're attracted?"

"A kiss," he replied, somewhat brusquely. "In the Geonosian arena. The three of us were supposed to die..."

"So what does it matter?" Siri finished softly.

Obi-Wan nodded mutely. Both were suddenly and uncomfortably reminded of the Talesan Fry mission, when - as teenage Padawans - they and their masters had been charged with guarding a boy genius from a group of bounty hunters. The two young Jedi had been forced to face their matured feelings for each other, only to be denied their love by Yoda and Qui-Gon. They had been faced with a choice: each other or the Jedi.

The Jedi had won out.

Siri had made Obi-Wan promise that he would forget the whole thing, but deep down, Obi-Wan never had. And it seemed that neither had Siri.

She stood abruptly and quietly left the cockpit, leaving him alone to face the streaking lines of hyperspace.

* * *

She lay awake in the sleeping bag, alone. The chrono read 5:38 A.M.

Anakin hadn't come to bed the night before.

Padmé wanted to cry, but she couldn't. It felt as if her reservoir of tears had run dry, leaving her with a dull, empty ache. She prayed, but she wasn't certain anymore that the words were heard.

5:39.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to get at least a _little_ bit of sleep before dawn. That is, if dawn even came – the sky was still overcast after the midnight storm, and promised more rain to come.

Then, for a frightening moment, her heartbeat sped up, and she couldn't breathe.

_Anakin! Anakin, help!_

Distantly, she felt a panicked acknowledgement and a sense of her husband hurrying back from wherever he had been.

Then her heart slowed, and she could breathe again.

Anakin's telepathic relief was tangible.

"God, what _was_ that?" Padmé whispered. "What's _wrong_ with me?" Pause. "Don't take me just yet, God. Anakin needs me."

* * *

The two Knights barely spoke to each other until they reached Kios. The Kiosans were friendly for the most part, but they could not tell the Jedi any more than they already knew: Senator Amidala and Padawan Skywalker had left five days ago, bound for Coruscant.

"Now what?" Siri grumbled. "It's a big galaxy - they could be anywhere!"

"My guess is that something happened to their ship, and they couldn't make it back to Coruscant," Obi-Wan surmised.

"Backtrack?"

Obi-Wan shrugged helplessly. "Unless you have a better idea."

"No, not really," she admitted.

Obi-Wan sat down at the Holonet console in the cockpit and input a search. A map of the northwest corner of the Galaxy sprung up, showing sliver-layers of the Unknown Regions, Wild Space, the Mid Rim, the Expansion Region, the Inner Rim, the Colonies, the Core Worlds, and the Core itself. Kios was right between the Mid Rim and Wild Space. The closest world of any notice whatsoever was the prairie planet Ansion, 22,500 parsecs northeast. The only world of true import between Kios and Coruscant was Bilbringi, a major shipbuilding planet.

"So what, we just start a galactic inquiry?" Siri asked sarcastically, shaking her head. "We might as well put out one of those 'Have you seen this child?' ads."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Forget Anakin - _Padmé _would kill you."

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Thanks."

"No problem. Strap in - we're headed for Ansion."

Siri eyed him, one corner of her mouth pulling back. "Aw, I bet the Ansionians are just gonna love you for coming back."

"Don't get personal."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Thunder rumbled in the dark skies once again.

A lightsaber etched an inscription into a stone slab.

_Baby Skywalker_

_Our Little Angel_

_Flown Away To Heaven, __the 7th month of year 13, PrS_

A father deactivated his saber and clutched the stone as if the sheer force of his love could bring back his son.

_God, don't take Padmé, too. _Please_ don't take Padmé, too._

Saltwater mingled with rain.

_I remember when_

_I stumbled in the wind_

_You heard my cry to You_

_And raised me up again_

_My strength is almost gone_

_How can I carry on_

_If I can't find You?_

_But as the thunder rolls_

_I barely hear_

_You whisper through the rain_

_"I'm with you"_

- "Praise You in This Storm," Casting Crowns

**Author's Note:**

CEC stands for Corellian Engineering Corporation. Wookieepedia – what would we data-devouring fans do without it?


	6. Day 5: Control plus S

**Author's Note:**

I might be able to post again on Friday to keep up my "every other day" schedule, but I make no promises. This chappie is really short - the review responses are probably longer than the chapter itself! - but it's still a chapter.

REVIEWS MAKE MY DAY. SO PLEASE, MAKE MY DAY~!

**To my reviewers:**

Angie: Thank you so much for all your reviews! And Obi-Wan and Siri finding Anakin and Padmé… never mind, spoilers. ;D

Historian1912: Hey, _hola, mi amigo!_ Umm, 1999… weeell, see, the thing is… I did what's probably a little no-no there. 1999… as in _A.D._ 1999. …Yeeeah. My only excuse is that, in my story, the humans in the galaxy originate on Earth. Still not the greatest excuse. *sighs* I HATE it that the only timeline we have for canon is the one that's for the FANS and not IN-UNIVERSE, based on the Battle of Yavin.

Oh, glad you like the Siriwan! xD Siri is one of theee BEST SW females EVER. I have all of the two series, too! I'm having to go back and read through the books with her so that I get all her little nuances right. It's been quite a long time since I last read those books~!

You mean the Ansion incident? Well, that's what Mace Windu is referring to at the beginning of AotC, and it's from Alan Dean Foster's (also wrote the original ANH novel and _Splinter of the Mind's Eye_) novel _The Approaching Storm_. Obi-Wan, Anakin, Luminara Unduli, and Barriss Offee go to Ansion to settle a border dispute there and (of course) get more than they bargained for. It's different, but it's a great read!

**==Day Five==**

**Control plus "S"**

He's gone.

I hate it.

But he's gone. And I can't do a !#% thing about it.

I hate that, too.

_Ctrl+S_

He was my child.

My baby.

My son.

_Ctrl+S_

I don't know why I keep this journal.

Or why I write this entry. It's not like I'm ever going to read it again.

What's the point in writing something I'll never read again?

_Ctrl+S_

I guess I just need a vent.

I can't talk like this to anyone else, if I even had anyone other than Padmé with me. Padmé would be too upset. Obi-Wan can't know about our marriage, and neither can Palpatine, much as I trust the man. It's just me.

Padmé tells me that I can take it to God.

But I can't.

You need to _trust_ God to take something to Him.

I _know _He's real - I'm not blind, I've seen evidence in my life. But... I just can't _trust _Him.

God, give me a miracle. Give me my child back. Give me my mother back. And don't take Padmé.

I'm going crazy. I must be going crazy.

_Ctrl+S_

Luke.

That's what I would've called him. Luke.

Padmé mentioned once that she liked the name Luke. Said that it meant "light". I like it.

Luke. My little light.

My little light snuffed out.

He was a boy. I _know_ he was a boy. I had a son.

And I lost a son.

I'm repeating myself, aren't I?

_Ctrl+S_

Padmé gave me this datapad when we got married. Said that I could vent into here when she wasn't around to talk to.

She thinks of everything, doesn't she?

Yeah, I'll keep writing in here. It's handy. And she's right. Like I said before, I need to vent, and like she said, I can vent in here.

Definitely repeating myself now.

Yeah, I'm going crazy.

_Ctrl+S_

It's pretty late now. Padmé's asleep – she's been sleeping a lot. Between her injuries and… no, I'm not saying it again. Anyway, she _has_ to be tired. I'm pretty tired myself, but my stupid brain won't shut down and let me sleep. Stupid thing.

_Ctrl+S_

I've tried to put her into a sleeping trance, I've tried to use the Force to heal her injuries, but it's not working. I guess I don't know enough about what I'm trying to do.

I hate that.

_Ctrl+S_

I wonder where Obi-Wan is right now? It's been almost a week since we left that meeting and had contact with the rest of the galaxy – have they started looking for us yet? I hope so.

Doesn't matter anymore if Obi-Wan figures out that Padmé and I are married. I know I said above that he couldn't know, but I take that back. He'd figure it out sooner or later anyway – it's not like we can hide forever. I'm not _that_ naïve.

Actually, I'm not really naïve at all, anymore.

_Ctrl+S_

Anyway, about Obi-Wan, if him finding out about Padmé and me means that Padmé's gonna get the medical attention she needs, to !#% with secrecy. All that matters is that Padmé's all right.

Yeah.

_Ctrl+S_

I'm rambling, aren't I?

Yeah.

Okay, this is a waste of time now. Not that I really have anything better to do… but… I don't know, but I'm finished with this.

_Ctrl+S_

_Exit._

**Author's Note:**

Sometimes, a broken journal entry can flow so easily out of you. I loved writing this. Control plus "S," exit.


	7. Day 6: Complications

**Author's Note:**

The longest chapter yet! W00t!

And hugs and kisses to everyone who has favorited this story or put it on alert! _Thank you so much!_

Okay, I've gotta say this: when I started posting this fic, I was expecting some flames for the Christian tone. I really was. And thus far, I've gotten several _positive_ reviews over it! It's really overwhelmed me – I never _dreamed_ I'd get this kind of feedback! Thank you all so much!

Oh, and I keep getting reviews which say that people hope that Obi-Wan and Siri find Anakin and Padmé soon. Now I feel cruel not just to the Skywalkers but to my readers the longer the Skywalkers stay on Beltaine. Lol!

**To my reviewers:**

StormieSkywalker: Thank you so much for the article reference. I copied it, and I'll be sure to read it soon!

Pearlmaidenredskyla: Wow, thank you for your overwhelmingly positive review (and the fave)! =D …Anakin and Padmé _need_ to be stuck on a planet for a while, lol.

Christ's Sister: Wow, thank you! And without Wookieepedia, we'd be DOOMED. *nods sagely* Mm-hmm!

**==Day Six==**

**Complications**

_I'm not too sure that I can go much farther_

_I'm really not sure things are even getting better_

- "What's It Really For?", Tim Jenson (lyrics), _Ghost in the Shell: S.A.C. 2__nd__ GIG_

"I know what happened yesterday."

Anakin turned at the sound of his wife's voice, trying to ignore how weak it sounded now. "Really?"

Padmé nodded. "It… it's hereditary. Heart problems… they run in the Naberrie family. My grandfather died two years before the Invasion of Naboo – he was just seventy-five, but he died of a heart-attack."

Anakin paled. "You're saying that you could die young because of a weak heart?"

Padmé's eyebrows drew together. "My heart _isn't_ weak, Anakin. But under large amounts of stress, well… I guess we saw the result yesterday morning."

Anakin bit his lip, mind racing. A vow resurfaced in his memory to taunt him: _"I will learn to stop people from dying."_

"_All things die, Anakin. Even stars."_

_NO!_

"I won't let anything more happen to you, Padmé," he told her, voice rough and unsteady. "I promise."

The look in her brown eyes chilled him, and not because they were cold. "You can't promise that, Anakin. You don't have any more control over this than I do."

The life, the spirit, was slowly leeching out of her eyes, and Anakin instinctively knew that the sight would haunt him forever. Padmé Naberrie Amidala didn't give up, no matter what. She'd faced down and beaten back the odds time and time again, ever since she was a child. She was strong. She was a fighter.

She was all that he had left, and he would _not_ let her go.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean that I won't fight it," he said, firm voice belying his sudden desperation.

Padmé closed her eyes and turned away. "Some things, you can't fight," she whispered.

"I will fight destiny itself for you, Padmé," Anakin declared, his voice holding a note of rawness. "I will fight the entire _universe_ if it keeps you safe."

A tear slipped out of one closed eyelid. "I wouldn't want you to."

* * *

This was a good way to go blind.

Obi-Wan leaned back from the Holonet display and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. The trip to Ansion had revealed nothing, and now he'd been consulting the navicomputer for half an hour. That in and of itself wasn't enough to blind someone, but if you focused your eyes long enough on the holographic display, it could hurt.

"Anything?" came Siri's voice from another room.

"I plotted out the course Anakin probably would've taken," Obi-Wan replied, "and highlighted all the worlds in-between."

"Really? That's great!" Siri walked into the cockpit and came to stand behind the pilot's seat, studying the display and screwing up her face. "Huh, that's still a lot of planets."

"But not the entire galaxy," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"Nope, not even half," she agreed. "All right, then – shall we get started?"

"We certainly shall," he replied easily, keying in the coordinates to the nearest planet. It was a short jump, and when they reverted to realspace…

"Sithspawn!" Siri cried.

Before them, a battle waged between two starfleets.

"Rival pirate fleets," Obi-Wan surmised, his hands flying over the navigational console. Z-95 Headhunters from the larger of the two fleets changed course and began to fly towards them.

"Holy stars… Obi-Wan, get us out of here!"

"I'm working at it!"

Flak began to rock the ship, and the navicomp was still calculating. "Obi-Wan…"

"I can't make the navicomp go any faster, Siri!"

Siri growled in frustration. "Move over," she ordered.

He blinked at her. "What?"

"Get out of the seat!"

Bewildered, he obeyed, and she quickly sat and took the helm. "Let's just hope this thing is faster than its navicomp," she muttered, throwing the ship around and heading away from the pirates. "Better sit tight – this is gonna be one wild ride."

"Terrific," Obi-Wan commented sourly as he complied. Another Anakin – in his longtime comrade, no less. "Siri…"

"No backseat driving!" The _Millennium_ looped around and headed back for the battle, soaring past the incoming Headhunters.

Was she insane? "What are you doing?"

"Buying the navicomp some time!" Laserfire streaked past the cockpit, and she pushed the freighter down into a dive. "This hunk of junk handles well!"

She sounded faaar too much like Anakin. Obi-Wan just gripped the armrests of his chair and braced himself.

The freighter rocked again from another blast. Siri dialed the inertial compensator down to 95 and threw the ship into a spiraling maneuver.

The navigational console pinged, and Obi-Wan checked it. "We're a go."

"And we're _out of here!_" Siri threw them forward into hyperspace, leaving the battle far behind. She turned to Obi-Wan with an incorrigible grin. "Made it."

"No comment."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her console. "Uh-oh."

Only long years of practicing patience kept a hint of whining out of Obi-Wan's voice. "_Now_ what?"

"We've got a leaking hyperdrive," she informed him. "When we get back, I am going to personally recommend to the Council that this bucket of bolts be scrapped."

Obi-Wan frowned at the news but managed a light tone. "Don't. She's got personality. If she could just be fine-tuned, she'd be an excellent ship."

Siri choked out a laugh of surprise. "This coming from the Jedi who hates to fly?"

He threw her a longsuffering look, then turned his gaze to the copilot console, not deigning to reply. "Just great," he muttered after a minute. "Last time a hyperdrive leaked on me, I got stuck with Anakin."

* * *

Siri laughed. "Maybe this time, you'll get a girl."

He turned to her sharply, startling her. She couldn't decipher the look in his grey-blue eyes… until the realization of what she'd just _said_ hit her like a blaster bolt.

"Never mind," she mumbled, sure that her face was red. "Boys are just fine."

An awkward silence settled over the cockpit. At last, Obi-Wan's quiet voice broke it, saying, "We can land on Gariuse for repairs. It's two parsecs away."

Siri nodded mutely, refusing to meet his eye. _Dumb… that was a dumb thing to say_.

She'd vowed to pretend that the Talesan Fry mission had never happened.

She hadn't counted on it haunting her seventeen years later.

_"Forget? I can't forget!"_

_"Well, you just have to. You have to push it down. You have to bury it. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But I am going to do it. I am not going to think of you or wonder if we did the right thing."_

Seventeen years later, the woman cried inwardly at the decision the girl had made.

* * *

The sun had set an hour ago, and the moon was climbing to the zenith.

Anakin sat on a log, rocking back and forth on his heels, staring at the stars, his mind empty. He wasn't meditating, wasn't thinking… was just _being_ there. Existing.

He couldn't imagine anything emptier.

A low groan came from the tent, and he rose from his seat and looked inside. Padmé slept, but her beautiful face contorted – she was having a nightmare. Anakin crept up to her side and took her hand in his real one. "Padmé," he whispered. "Padmé, it's just a dream – wake up."

"Baby…"

Anakin's eyes watered. "Padmé…"

Still asleep, Padmé shifted slightly and groaned again. "Sweetie, don't cry."

Anakin brutally shoved away his own grief and took his wife's hand. "Padmé, _wake up_."

Her eyes slowly opened, slowly focused on him. "Ani…" The brown eyes watered.

Angels weren't supposed to cry. He bent over and kissed her forehead. "Honey, it's going to be all right. We'll get through this, and… we'll get another chance."

Something – he wasn't sure what – passed over her face, before she gave him a grieving smile. Her voice was barely audible, but he heard her say, "You would have made a good daddy."

He gathered her into his arms and cried.

_everything is falling apart_

_and yet a cacophony of voices_

_(still) whispering_

_"it will be alright"_

_echoes in my head_

_and i wish they would shut up_

_because just maybe_

_(sometimes)_

_i want to fall apart_

_maybe_

_(sometimes)_

_i need to fall apart_

- "echo," teenelizabeth

**Author's Note:**

Yes, the angst continues. *points at the genre* But it's not… angst for the sake of angst, you know? Each couple has its own severe issues, and in working through that angst, they come to resolutions. …Aaand that's all the spoilers you're getting for now. ;D

The poem there is by my old beta reader, from her FictionPress profile. She cleaned out all her stuff a while ago when I wasn't looking, I guess, which saddens me. Fortunately, I still had already copied a lot of her poems to my hard drive. "echo" resonates with me the most, because there really _are_ times when I want to fall apart, and times when I _need_ to fall apart. It's a beautiful piece.

I WON'T BE ABLE TO UPDATE FOR A WEEK. Okay? Sorry about that, but I've got several writing projects going right now, including my own fantasy novel and a college writing course. I'll get the next chapter to you guys by next Saturday, though, all right?


	8. Day 7: Holding On and Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

WHERE DID THE WEEK GO? I swear, before I knew it, it was Thursday, and I thought, "Holy cow, I haven't even _started_ the next chapter yet!" I am so sorry that I didn't make my one-week deadline! Last week was so crazy – on a scale of 1 to 10, it ranked an 8.5.

Btw, this chapter is a good example of Earthling influence in the GFFA. I guess there's no logical _reason_ for it – it's just something that's fun to write and that's been a part of my story for years.

Please review so that I'll know I haven't lost you! My sincerest apologies for my tardiness, and I hope this long-ish chapter makes up for the wait!

**To my reviewers:**

Angie: Glad you like Siri flying like Anakin! While it would be hard, I think, for her to match his supreme skills, I definitely think that she would share a similar, daredevil mentality in flight.

Pearlmaidenredskyla: Oh, I love Obi-Wan's longsuffering personality. ^^ The telepathy between Anakin and Obi-Wan is a great idea – thank you! It wasn't right for this chapter with what I had planned, but expect to see something similar in Day Eight or Nine!

**==Day Seven==**

**Holding On and Letting Go**

_Love waits for me 'round the bend_

_Leads me endlessly on_

_Surely sorrows shall find their end_

_And all of our troubles will be gone_

- "Going Home" by Mary Fahl, _Gods and Generals_

Luke. Eiré. Liam. Leia. Aidin. Lúthien. Brechon. Aderyn. Josaia. Callé.

The day that she had discovered her pregnancy, she'd jumped onto the 'net to look up baby names. In five seconds, she realized that she needed to narrow her search down to _human_ baby names, because she certainly wasn't going to look at any Nikto, Rodian, or – Force forbid! – Hutt lists. Twi'lek and Togruta, _maybe_, but she _definitely_ drew the line at Huttese.

Of all the boys' names she'd found, _Luke_ was her favorite. Of the girls' names, she couldn't decide between _Lúthien_ and _Leia_. _Lúthien_ meant "blossom," and _Leia_ came from an ancient Alderaanian honorative for a noblewoman.

_Does it really matter anymore?_

She hoped, but she honestly didn't believe she'd survive this. The injuries from the crash, the miscarriage, the stress, the congenital heart defect… It was just too much.

She was already dying – she just hadn't taken the final step yet.

_I'm not afraid to die._

She wasn't – not really. She knew where she was going, and death held no terror for her.

_O Death, where is thy sting? And so Death has been swallowed up in victory._

She would be with her Savior. She would see her grandparents who had already passed on. She would see her _son_.

_Anakin…_

Her one regret. Anakin _needed_ her. She loved him enough that it could will her to go on living, but in the end, even the power of love is no match against time and nature. Love wouldn't prevent her from slipping into a coma if it came to that – love wouldn't keep her heart beating if the muscle failed.

_You're going to have to learn how to let go, Ani. I can't hold on forever._

It was going to be the hardest lesson he'd ever have to learn. She felt cruel for making the lesson necessary to her own _husband_, but… even she had her limits.

_I'm going_ home, _Ani. I'm going to be with our_ son.

* * *

It was 2200, and he was still awake. They'd reach Gariuse in another hour.

_Stars_, Obi-Wan _hated_ to be awake for thirty-six hours on end. He'd done it before – done it many times, in fact – but that didn't necessitate that he enjoyed it.

Siri was the smart one. Siri had actually _slept_ the night before.

Obi-Wan hadn't.

Now he was really feeling it – most noticeably in the form of a severe headache.

He had less control, too, when he was this tired. His thoughts and emotions could take turns that he didn't want to take, turns that weren't for Jedi to take.

His _memories_ could take turns that Jedi shouldn't take.

_"Obi-Wan, no matter what happens, I want you to know —"_

_"I already know."_

_"You know and I know that they won't change the rules for us. The Jedi Order doesn't work that way."_

_"Don't look at me like that. You look as though you're saying good-bye."_

The way the hue of her eyes shifted – Force, how long had it been since he'd recalled that? – her short hair gleaming in the sun like liquid gold, her warm lips, the scent of her skin that was heat and slightly sweat and sweetness altogether that was just _Siri_…

_Oh Force_. He still loved her.

They'd been on many missions together since the Talesan Fry mission, but not until now had they been without their Padawans or another knight or master. They were alone, and that was drawing out things that had long been buried.

At least, drawing things out in _Obi-Wan_. Siri, he wasn't sure…

He massaged his temples, trying to soothe his aching head. He was glad for the distraction from his recalcitrant thoughts but wished that the distraction could have been something a bit less painful. Closing his eyes, he attempted to release the pain into the Force.

After a minute, his eyes flew open.

It wasn't working.

Sighing in frustration, he slouched in the chair and shut his eyes again, hoping that a little rest would lessen the ache. Before long, though, he finally succumbed to sleep.

"_Daddy! Daddy!"_

_The girl's voice echoed around him, making it impossible to ascertain the direction by sound alone. He pushed his consciousness out and brushed against a small mind that was bright in the Force and frightened and oh-so-very-_familiar…

_He ran in that direction, paying no heed to the grey, nebulous world around him. All that mattered was finding that little girl._

"_Daddy!"_

_He saw her running to him, red-gold hair bouncing with each bound. He caught her up in his arms._

_She sobbed into his shoulder. "Daddy!"_

Daddy?_ "Shh, it's all right," he soothed. "I'm here now."_

"_Don't leave me, Daddy."_

"_I won't leave you, little one."_

"_I know." And suddenly, she was no longer a redheaded little girl, but Siri. "I know. And _I_ won't leave _you_."_

_He didn't let go, even in his confusion. He held her tighter. "Siri…"_

"_I still _love_ you, Obi-Wan. And I'm here for you…"_

* * *

They landed amid a light evening drizzle on Gariuse. While Obi-Wan hired a shop to fix the Millennium, Siri secured their accommodations for the night. As previously agreed, they reunited in the small town's one tap café.

Obi-Wan pulled down his hood as he stepped into the café and took a cursory study of the large room. The place had a Corellian retro feel to it. Tiles covered the floor in dejarik board style, and posters of former pop culture singers lined the walls. In one corner, two human men and a Twi'lek woman – interestingly more modestly-dressed than most females of her species – performed songs that Qui-Gon would have heard when he was a Padawan. The patrons consisted of a family of five, four couples of varying ages and humanoid species, a pair of teenage girls, a man about Obi-Wan's age, and Siri.

She gave him a smile and a little wave. He smiled back and threaded his way across the room to the window booth. "Cozy place," he commented by way of greeting.

"Sure is," she agreed, settling into her seat. "I ordered nerf steak sandwiches for us."

"Oh good, thanks." He pulled off his robe and draped it over the back of his seat. "And caf?"

"Oh, of course."

As if on cue, a waitress appeared, bearing two mugs of caf. "Here you go, hon," the woman drawled.

"Thanks," Siri smiled.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan nodded. As the waitress moved off, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and inhaled the strong aroma. "Ahhh, caf. What would we do without it?"

"You said it," Siri agreed, taking a sip from her cup before continuing. "Of course, it's addictive, and therefore detrimental to our character as Jedi, but when you're tired and need a pick-me-up, who cares?"

"Indeed," Obi-Wan nodded again, deadpan. He took a sip. "Of course, _since_ we're Jedi, we should use the Force to energize us, but it's just so much easier to let the caf do it for us."

"In which case, caf is of the Dark Side." Siri nodded sagely. "You know, since taking the easy way out of anything is generally considered of the Dark Side."

Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully down at his caf. "_This_, of the Dark Side?" He sighed mournfully. "Very well, if it be of the Dark Side, let me have one last farewell tryst before caf and I part company forever."

Siri burst out laughing. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, I swear…"

"You started it!" he accused, grinning and trying not to laugh, himself. And failing. "Next thing you know, _nerf steak_ will be of the Dark Side."

Her blue eyes darted from side to side. "You never know," she whispered. "The Dark Side is _very_ good at hiding its true nature."

His laugh this time was incredulous. "I can't believe it! Here we are, two full-fledged Jedi Knights _who have been to __**Korriban**_ and are on a rescue mission – and we're _joking_ about the Dark Side!"

Siri's expression sobered. "I don't think it's wrong," she said quietly. "I've found that lightheartedness is sometimes the only way you can bear some things." She exhaled loudly and leaned back in her seat. "Of course, I'm sure Mace Windu would beg to differ."

"Oh, most assuredly," Obi-Wan agreed.

* * *

Siri glanced at the small music group that was still performing old songs, then down at her plate. She was finished eating, and Obi-Wan was taking his last bite now.

"Well, I suppose we ought to –"

"Did you ever learn how to dance?" she nearly blurted out.

Judging by the look on his face, she had _really_ caught him off-guard this time. "W-what?"

"Dance," she repeated. "You know, that thing that some of the couples here are starting to do?"

"Uh, no, not actually."

_So much for Jedi Kenobi's eloquence,_ she thought rather wickedly. She grinned and stood. "Well, there's no time like the present!" She pulled him up out his seat and onto the space devoid of tables that constituted the "dance floor."

"Siri, no!" he protested. "I've never done this before – I don't want to make a fool out of myself!"

"You won't!" she assured him. "Come on, don't be a stick in the swamp. It'll be fun!"

"A word for which you and I obviously have two very different definitions," he retorted hastily, trying to pull away.

But Siri wasn't going to let him get away. "Nuh-uh… no, you don't. Come on, Obi-Wan." She used her grip on his forearm to twirl herself around him, and every move he made to escape, she danced around to stop him.

Finally, he resigned himself to the inevitable and tried to follow Siri's lead.

_Today, I met_

_The boy I'm gonna marry_

_He's all I've wanted all my life_

_And even more~_

She laughed as he stumbled, amused to see the grace with which he fought totally absent on the dance floor.

"Siri!"

"Relax!"

_When we kissed_

_I felt the sweet sensation!_

_This time, it wasn't just my_

_Imagination~_

He gradually settled into the informal dance, still uneasy but much less awkward.

_Some like the high road_

_I like the low road_

_Free from the care and strife_

_I never was cut out_

_To step and strut out_

_Give me the simple life_

"Sounds like you," she teased.

"For once, I think you're right."

"For _once_?"

He just smiled.

_Someday, when I'm awfully low_

_When the world is cold_

_I will feel aglow just thinking of you_

_And the way you look tonight_

_You're so lovely, with your smile so warm_

_And your cheeks so soft_

_There is nothing for me but to love you_

_And the way you look tonight_

He tried not to think about how true those words were.

_With each word, your tenderness grows_

_Tearing my fears apart_

_And that laugh that wrinkles your nose_

_Touches my foolish heart_

_Yes, you're lovely, never, ever change_

_Keep that breathless charm_

_Won't you please arrange it?_

_'Cause I love you... just the way you look tonight_

She saw the warmth in his blue eyes, that familiar, beloved warmth. This had been a mistake. They weren't… it wasn't… this was a mistake.

But, stars, she didn't want to let go.

She never wanted to let go.

_With each word, your tenderness grows_

_Tearing my fears apart_

_And that laugh that wrinkles your nose_

_Touches my foolish heart_

He realized that, somewhere along the line, he had begun to sing softly with the band. The shock in her eyes must be mirroring the shock in his own.

But he didn't stop.

_Yes, you're lovely, never, ever change_

_Keep that breathless charm_

_Won't you please arrange it?_

_'Cause I love you... just the way you look tonight_

_Baby_

_Just the way you look tonight_

_Darlin'_

_Just the way you look… tonight_

Obi-Wan Kenobi was not a man driven by impulses. That was his boyhood, before he had learned the control he kept over himself now. But just this one time, he let himself give in.

Just once.

Because he wanted to kiss her.

So he did.

And she didn't pull away.

She held on.

* * *

He would hold her until she fell asleep, and it was so nice to fall asleep in his strong arms. Almost like being home.

But she wouldn't deceive herself, and she wouldn't deceive him. "Anakin?"

"Hmm?"

"If I, if you…" She stopped, bit her lip, formulated a different approach. "What if you had to, well, choose between saving _me _and saving the _galaxy_? What would you do?"

She tilted her head up just in time to see him blink. "What?"

"If things came to a point where you'd have to choose between me and the galaxy…"

"I would choose you," came the unrelenting answer.

She knew that. "But what if that meant that the galaxy would fall into something even worse than it is now? _More_ destruction, even tyranny? Not just clones and military personnel dying, but civilians? By the millions. What would you do?"

His face contorted as he looked down at her. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I need to know."

His mouth worked for a few moments before he finally said, "What would _you_ do?"

A tear slipped out of her left eye. "I would do my best to protect you both, but… if I had no other choice, I… I would have to choose the galaxy."

He stared at her for a long minute before saying at last, "You'd make a good Jedi."

She stared back at him. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Both his face and voice had gone hard. "You'd sacrifice attachment for the greater good."

She hadn't wanted to hurt him like this. "I'd like to believe I would."

He looked away.

"Anakin, you are more important to me than anyone else in the _universe_, do you hear me? But… to keep you… at the cost of great pain to everyone else… can't you see how wrong that is? Is it fair to everyone else?"

"Life isn't fair."

"Anakin!" Her sharp, shocked shout made him look at her again in surprise. Good. "I can't _believe _you! I can't believe that you would be so selfish as to…" She looked away and forced herself to stop before she said something they'd both regret. And she didn't want to fight like this, not when she wasn't sure how much time she had left.

"Anakin… Anakin, I'm dying."

His grip on her tightened. "What?"

"I _am_! I… I just know it. Anakin, I don't want to leave you –"

"Then don't. Just… don't."

She turned back to him, her eyes searching his face. "But I can't control it, Anakin. Neither of us can." She saw his jaw tighten, knew that she had struck a very tender nerve. _"I will learn to stop people from dying."_ She suppressed a shudder. "I want to know that, if I go, you won't destroy yourself or something else in your grief." She gripped his real hand tightly. "Please. Promise me you won't."

"Padmé…"

"_Promise_!"

"…I promise."

She relaxed and nodded, burying her face into his shoulder. "I love you.

His voice was broken. "I love you, too."

"I know. I'll always be with you, if only in spirit and memory. But you _have to let go_."

**Author's Note:**

Woo-WEE! what a chapter! Things are intensifying! This is such an… _incredibly_ important chapter, because it's a turning point. Bad things happen past here, but from here on out, things also start to _develop_. Good things.

I think I'll have to shoot for trying to do one chapter a week. If you get _more_ than that in one week, we're fortunate. ;D

I should mention that the name _Gariuse_ is based on _Garrus_, one of the main characters in the Mass Effect games. Now, I don't play those games, I don't really know anything about them – but one of my 'Net friends _loves_ them. And that was just the first thing that came to mind when I wanted to come up with a new planet. (All those SW maps contradict each other on what goes where, so to avoid any entanglements, I created a new planet. Otherwise, I would have used a real one.)

In the future, I'll also be posting up some new SW fics, so if you could keep your eyes out for them…

Redemption in Attachment: AU one-shot. Mace Windu finds healing when his final Padawan tells him, "I love you, Master."

Burning Alive: A new take on Leia's interrogation aboard the Death Star, loosely following the radio drama and in light of RotS.

Yes, My Master: Vader's thoughts as he speaks with Sidious in TESB. Outwardly, he's the Good Little Apprentice. Inwardly, he's as rebellious and disrespectful as ever. NOT HUMOR

Normal Moments of a Not-So-Normal Couple: Ani/Padmé. Making dinner, spring cleaning, bolo-ball games, road maps, surfboards, and theater stakeouts!

**Sneak-Peek into the Future!**

_And I want you to know that… just in case you ever wonder._

Obi-Wan looked up from the datapad as he finished reading and saw his Padawan's cerulean eyes water. "Master…" Anakin looked away. "Master, I don't know what to say."

"But _I_ do. I _love_ you, Anakin." The boy looked up, startled. "I love you, and I'm sorry if I don't make that clear enough, often enough."


	9. Day 8: The Time Given to Us

**IMPORTANT Author's Notes:**

**1. I'M ACTUALLY NOT DEAD!** Oh, guys, I feel so bad for leaving you hanging like this! But as Han says in TESB: "It's not fair. It's not my fault." ;D It's actually the fault of our Internet service, who switched things around at their tower, thus outdating our equipment (without even warning us). We've been offline since June 18th, and I've had precious few chances to get online during this time. As you might imagine, Internet withdrawal has been _exquisitely_ painful—that, and I am absolutely FURIOUS at our 'Net service. I don't know when I'll be able to update again, but I hope that this chapter (the longest yet!) makes up for my absence! (And if some of you guys would pray for this situation, please? I do online schooling, too, and _that's_ suffering, thanks to this situation.)

**2. Gregorian calendar VS Star Wars calendars.** I've gotten some comments about my usage of the Gregorian calendar, and actually, I didn't even know of the existence of any pre-Imperial calendars until a reviewer pointed that out to me. I'll be editing that usage as soon as I can, thanks to Historian 1912, who gave me a conversion of our calendar to a Republic calendar. Thanks, Historian – have I ever told you how much you rock?

**3. ALSO, PROBABLE TITLE CHANGE.** "Across the Stars" sticks, because it's the series title, but I'm thinking of changing the title of the fic itself. "The Rising Sun"… just… doesn't cut it for me, anymore (it's an old title, you know—two years old, actually, and the story's changed a lot since then). I'm actually thinking of changing it to "When You Believe"—yes, the _Prince of Egypt_ song. It fits really well.

…_**Sneak Peek at the tail end!**_

**To my reviewers:**

Pearlmaidenredskyla: …I take it that the chapter made up for the tardiness. *cheesy smile* Thank you, I realized that we needed to see Padmé's own negativity a little more – yeah, not only is she stuck on a planet with her teenage-angsty husband, but she's sustained severe injuries and been through a miscarriage. That… can't be healthy, physically, mentally, or emotionally. And Obi-Wan and Siri dancing was my favorite part! =D There's nothing like a Convenient Slow Dance to draw out attachment!

AndrossKenobi: Thank you! Well, if I were going for canon-compatible, you wouldn't be seeing Christian overtones to this degree, but this _is_ AU, so I do feel I have a little more creative license. And I've actually been all around the ring with this topic with my friends in my other main fandom (cartoon _Buzz Lightyear of Star Command_), so… I'd be willing to bet that I've heard pretty much everything that can be said on this topic. *lopsided grin*

Anyway, I _do_ understand your stance and respect it. I'm actually very hardcore myself—I could go on and on about things I've seen in fanfics where I hate how they botch characterization and/or deviate from the _canonical_ EU more or less completely. Even though I hate the whole Jacen/Caedus thing, I'm not going to pretend it never happened. It _did_, and I just have to deal with it—and I wish other people would react similarly to the EU.

And wow, the storyline and "impressive characterization more than make up for it"? *blushes* Thank you so much! I work to stay as true to the characters as possible, but I never thought I'd hear my characterization called "impressive."

Actually, I didn't even _know_ there were any in-universe time systems other than the Imperial and NR systems until a reviewer pointed it out a few weeks ago—unfortunately, not until I had already used the date August 1999 for the baby's tombstone. So I plea ignorance on this one, and my mistakes shall be rectified ASAP.

sunkissed23: Wow, thank you! Thanks for the alert and the fave, too! Really, Animé (Anakin/Padmé—I don't like the name "Anidala" xD) is only _one_ half of this story, and the other half is Siriwan. Both are equally important to the overarching storyline, and—to give away a little spoiler—the two couples are intertwined. What happens _here_ is _very_ important in shaping the future, including the events of RotS. And I'm glad you think I'm doing so well on the Siriwan—it's my favorite SW ship!

**==Day Eight==**

**The Time Given to You**

_So how do you measure the worth of a man_

_In whether strength or size?_

_In how much he gained, or how much he gave?_

_The answer will come,_

_The answer will come to him who tries_

_To look at his life through Heaven's eyes_

—"Through Heaven's Eyes," _The Prince of Egypt_

_Knock, knock, knock_. "Siri?" _Knock, knock_. "Siri!" Pause. "_Blast_ it, Siri—I know you can hear me!"

"Go away," came the muffled response from the other side of the door.

_Just_ on the other side of the door, Obi-Wan realized with irritation. "Siri, you can't stay in there forever!"

"No, but I don't want to see you right now. Check that—I don't want to see you ever again."

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw stubbornly. "What are you going to do, be facing away from me for the rest of the mission?"

"That's not a bad idea."

"Siri!"

The door whooshed open, revealing Siri frowning and crossing her arms over her chest. "_Yes_, Jedi Kenobi?"

The skin around Obi-Wan's eyes tightened, the only visible sign of his frustration aside from his taut jaw. "Siri, we need to talk."

"The last time we had a _talk_ like that, we decided to bury it. I suggest that we continue that course of action." Siri tried to palm the door shut, but Obi-Wan thrust his hand out to rest on the doorjamb, and the safety system kept the door open.

"_No_, Siri," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "We can't simply bury it. Not this time." There was something in his voice, more than the tone of Jedi who trained his own apprentice… A fine layer of durasteel that hadn't been there before, and it surprised him. Had a mere two months of the war built that layer?

Siri withdrew her palm from the doorpad and stepped back, uncertainty shining in her blue eyes. "Obi-Wan…"

"I'm not sorry for the kiss," Obi-Wan forged ahead. "It was… it was one of the most wonderful things I've ever experienced."

Her eyes softened, twin pools of aquamarine. "It was the same for me," she murmured.

"Siri—"

"Obi-Wan, what's changed?" she blurted out. "The Code hasn't, the Jedi haven't, _we_ weren't supposed to…"

"But we did," he gently interjected, "and it wasn't for the better. We were close, once. But when we… after the Talesan Fry mission, we…" His eyebrows drew together slightly. "I don't think 'drifted apart' is the correct term—it was too fast. But I think you know what I mean."

She kept her gaze steady on him as she nodded. "Yeah, I know." She sighed, raked a hand through her hair. "We haven't been close since."

It was his turn to nod.

"Well… oh, stang, how are we supposed to deal with this?" Anger crept into her voice. "It's gone too far and too deep and… oh! It's not fair! I shouldn't have to hide the fact that I lo—" Her eyes widened as she stopped herself.

He felt his own eyes widen. They'd never actually _said_ it, had they? _I love you_. His mouth worked for a few moments before he gave up and simply raised a hand to her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He inhaled deeply, held the breath, let it out slowly. "No," he said, slowly, carefully. "Maybe you shouldn't."

He felt her body stiffen in shock beneath his hand. "Obi-Wan…"

"I've been talking a lot with Dan Starrider lately—or rather, _he's_ been talking with _me_."

Her brow furrowed. "Dan Starrider… the Corellian Jedi who's trying to get the Council to change the attachment rule?"

"The very same. I think Dan and his wife want my help in their activism."

"Why you?"

"They're good friends with Anakin," he replied, "so they know me fairly well. Having lived most of their lives in their home system, they know only a handful of non-Corellian Jedi."

Siri snorted.

Obi-Wan shrugged, keeping his hand lightly on Siri's shoulder. "Anyway, Dan _has_ said some things that have got me thinking."

"Such as?"

"Well, such as _why_ the Code forbids attachment in the first place."

Siri's frown deepened. "Because the Order comes before all else, and attachment can't be allowed to interf—"

"That's the _rule_," Obi-Wan interrupted, "but not the _reason_." His expression became very solemn. "Gilraen has done a lot of research in this area, and everything pointed to one conclusion. Siri, it's not just that attachment was pulling Jedi away from their duties—it's that they allowed that attachment to draw them into the Dark Side."

Siri's lips parted to form a small _O_.

"Dan also told me something one former Jedi said long ago, something along the lines of…" Obi-Wan stared at the ceiling as he remembered. "'Love doesn't lead to the Dark Side. Passion can lead to rage and fear, but it's not the same thing as love. Controlling your passions while being in love is what they should teach you to beware.'" His gaze returned to Siri. "'But love itself will save you, not condemn you.'"

She looked away, took a step back, then turned, starting to pace slowly around her room. Obi-Wan didn't press, knowing that she would speak when she was ready. Her sense in the Force flickered with surprise, regret, uncertainty—and underlying that, comprehension. After a minute, she said, "That… explains it, I suppose."

"It does," he said neutrally, remaining in the doorjamb.

Two more minutes passed in silence as he watched Siri work through her thoughts. "I guess I can understand how a Jedi could fall by love. It's not a pleasant thought, but… Oh, _stang_, priorities are still important!" She looked up at Obi-Wan then, halting. "They have to be! We can't have wasted… _seventeen years_… just on a rule based on a fear, no matter how founded that fear might be!"

"We didn't," Obi-Wan told her. "If nothing else, we were too young then for such a serious commitment." He had reached his center now, and the Force was calm and tranquil about him. "Priorities _are_ important. Marriage holds that the family takes _top_ priority, which _is_ another reason for the rule. In the Jedi Order, no priority can be higher than serving the Force." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "_But_."

It was a word pregnant with meaning, and after a few moments, Obi-Wan saw Siri realize the conclusion he wanted her to reach. "But… but what if the Force…" She looked at him uncertainly, and he nodded. _Go on_. "What if the Force led… oh stars, what if the Force actually _led_ you to love?"

Obi-Wan dipped his head in acknowledgement. "That's the conclusion that I reached. After all, Corellian Jedi freely allow themselves attachments, love, families, possessions—even houses. And yet, they still serve the Force, they still obey many dictates of the Code, they still answer to the Jedi Council. How?"

"They're Corellians," Siri shrugged, a hint of dark humor in her voice. "They get away with murder."

Amusement tugged at the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth. "True, but _think_. When was the last time you heard of a Corellian Jedi turning to the Dark Side?"

Siri blinked. "I can't say that I have."

"And neither can I," Obi-Wan agreed. "Dan and Gilraen aren't the only Corellian Jedi I've spoken with lately. I've also talked with Dan's father, Master Keith Starrider, and Master Nejaa Halcyon. Both agree that attachment doesn't strain their loyalty to the Jedi Order—it _strengthens_ it. They serve because they want to make the galaxy a better place—both for their own families, and for others. Master Starrider argued that by allowing himself to attach to others, his connection to people and to the Living Force is strengthened considerably."

Siri held up one hand and raked her hair with the other. "Okay, okay, it makes sense. _Both_ sides of the issue make sense, though. So what do _we_ do about it?"

Obi-Wan drummed his fingers lightly on the doorjamb. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Not funny."

"I'm serious."

Siri exhaled in an exasperated huff. "No, you're impossible." She shook her head and looked out her window. "I guess the 'forget-it-ever-happened' resolution would be even harder now."

"Probably."

"But if we don't… bury it… what do we do with it?"

"An excellent question." Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. "One to which I wish I had an excellent answer. The hurdles we encountered seventeen years ago are still there."

Siri nodded. "Secrecy wouldn't get rid of the hurdles, either."

"No, it wouldn't." Obi-Wan straightened. "But whatever we decide, I don't want to be this far apart from you again. I want to be best friends, like we once were."

"I'd like that, too," Siri admitted candidly.

Obi-Wan folded his arms. "Now, if we could just figure out this… this…"

"Romantic angle?" Siri supplied, with a hint of an uncertain smile.

"If you like," he returned easily, ambling over to join her at the window. The forest far in the distance appeared to be no more than a pale, hazy band low on the horizon in the virgin sunlight.

After another minutes of silence, she murmured, "We could try the holodrama solution."

He looked at her, raised an eloquent eyebrow. "Oh?"

She didn't turn to him, but she said, "Don't give me that look. I mean, when the guy and the girl decide to wait a certain amount of time before they jump into a more serious relationship. Holodrama romances may be sappy, but the idea itself isn't bad."

"No, it isn't," Obi-Wan conceded. "Would you really like to try that?"

She turned to him then. "I've waited seventeen years," she said, a hint of challenge in her tone. "I can wait a few more months."

"How many?"

"Six," she said promptly. "That's a little over half a year—plenty of time."

"One would think," he agreed. "Very well, six months it is. And if our feelings remain unchanged…?"

"Not our feelings," she corrected, tentatively reaching for his hand and taking it. "Our hearts. There's a difference."

He gently pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her torso and resting his chin in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. "I love you," he whispered into her ear. "No matter what happens, Siri Tachi, I _love_ you."

He felt her body shudder against his, and he tightened his embrace, marginally. Her reply was almost inaudible. "I love you, too."

* * *

The sapphire blade blazed to life, cutting through the late morning air. The blade angled overhead, backwards, and down, its tip a meter from the ground. Form V opening.

It sang through the air as it curved around, over and under, back and forth, in a series of blows against an unseen attacker. The essence of Form V, or _Djem So_, was power, raw strength converted into an art of blade-to-blade combat.

And raw strength was something of which Anakin Skywalker had no lack.

He twisted the blade through a series of complex maneuvers, imagining himself once again facing off the treacherous Count Dooku. The next time they met, Anakin was determined to give the Count an unpleasant surprise. He had always favored _Djem So_, but now, he was resolved to master it.

He missed his lightsaber. This one, this was a replacement from the Jedi Temple, and it would suffice for now, but it wasn't _his_. The bond between a Jedi and his saber was not to be taken lightly, and while Anakin was the exception—openly or secretly—to many Jedi rules, he was no different in this case. His lightsaber had possessed a sleek design and a firm grip, but, more than that, Anakin had constructed it himself in less than five hours on Ilum. The blue Adegan crystals in that saber were the crystals to which the Force had directed him—a part of him was in that broken saber and in those crystals, wherever they were.

No, this loaned lightsaber could never replace the work of his hands. He promised himself that, someday soon, he would build another.

He leapt and brought the saber down in a vicious sweep at the imaginary Count's neck. The ghostly Dooku's head satisfactorily departed from his shoulders and hit the ground rolling, the face eternally twisted in shock.

Anakin shut off the lightsaber. Yes, that would be a most satisfactory end, indeed.

* * *

"So, how much longer will it be till you're finished?" Obi-Wan asked conversationally, patting one of the _Millennium_'s landing struts.

"By supper, actually," the mechanic replied, tossing the Jedi a smile. "Don't worry, I wouldn't want to hold up Jedi business."

"Thanks," Obi-Wan smiled back. "I'm glad you can fix something so old so fast."

"Not an issue," the other assured him. "Most of the ships I get here are older than this baby." He, too, patted the _Millennium_, with something akin to affection. "Like this design, actually. Corellian ships have always been my favorite."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly and looked up at the uneven hull. "I must admit, she's growing on me."

The mechanic laughed. "That's what they'll do to you, those old Corellian designs. I'll bet this old girl's fast, too."

"Very."

"I am curious, though—how did such an apparently-reject ship end up as part of the Jedi Order's private fleet?"

"Donations," Obi-Wan replied, still studying the hull above him. "We can't turn down what other people give us."

The mechanic snorted. "Right. So somebody decides to drop their junk in the Jedi's lap. Nice." He shook his head and twirled a hydrospanner around his fingers. "Still, you lucked out on this one. Good design. Whoever worked last on her just neglected some parts—if not for that, you'd have a YT-1300 in full working order."

Obi-Wan nodded noncommittally, the thought straying through his mind that it was nice to find someone these days that was friendly with Jedi. "Well, I'd best leave you to your work," he decided, "as I _am_ paying you by the hour. Farewell." He gave a small wave and headed for the door of the repair shop.

"See you later," the other man called back.

* * *

"I have an idea."

Anakin ignored the thread of fragility in his wife's tone and turned to her. "Oh?"

"Well, I've been thinking," she told him, lying in her sleeping bag and propped up on her right arm. "About you, mostly. And about, well…"

"About… about how I'd, uh, behave if you… weren't around?" he managed.

Padmé nodded, rather miserably.

"I've got a terrific solution."

"And I've got a less-than-terrific counter to that solution," she frowned. "Which is why I think I've come up with another."

Anakin sighed. He didn't want to be _thinking_ about this, much less _discussing_ it, but if it made his wife feel better… "All right, let's hear it."

She studied him for a few moments before venturing, "What would you say your life's purpose is?"

Anakin's eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"What would you say your life's purpose is?"

Anakin's frown merely deepened as he wondered where this could possibly be going. "To be a Jedi. To serve and defend."

Padmé shook her head. "That's what the Jedi drill you to say. But what do _you_ want?"

"Padmé…"

She held up a hand. "Wait, I'm not saying that that was a bad thing, because it's not. But when you said it… your heart wasn't in it, and _that's_ what I'm looking for. Anakin, what did you want to do when you were little?"

Anakin settled onto the ground, pulling his feet underneath him. "Well," he said softly, almost dreamily, "that's not so hard. I wanted to be a racing pilot. I was going to do podraces, ship runs… and make enough money to free myself and my mom. And I would keep racing and give my mom a nice, comfortable home somewhere offworld, someplace green and quiet—like Alderaan. After that, I'd help free Kitster, Wald, Aimee, and Seek, help them get set up with their own lives. Then, I figured I'd settle down, myself, and start my own family. Of course, there were times when the goals shifted – I think all kids do that…" Padmé nodded… "but it was all still related to flying, like shipping or even smuggling." Padmé grinned, and Anakin laughed. "But once—_just_ once, mind you—I wanted to be an actor in holodramas."

Padmé laughed disbelievingly. "_You_, a holodrama actor?"

"Yeah, go 'head and laugh," Anakin mock-scowled. "Give me a break—I was _six_!"

Padmé shook her head and laughed again. Anakin just rolled his eyes, stared out into the distance, chewed thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek. "It wasn't until not long before I met you that I had that dream about becoming a Jedi and freeing all the slaves. It was… well, it was weird. It kept shifting… all these different pieces that are only now starting to all come together." He shrugged, returned his gaze to Padmé. "When you and Qui-Gon came, I decided I was going to be a Jedi, plain and simple. I haven't really thought about anything else in years."

"Mm," was her noncommittal response.

"Sooo…" Anakin prompted.

Padmé fixed her gaze on the mountains on the other side of the lake. "Now that you're almost a Jedi Knight, what do you want from that life?"

Anakin blinked in surprise, then shrugged. "Keep on helping people, I suppose. Fight people like Dooku and the Separatists…" He looked down and shook his head, hands straying to play with the grass beneath him. "Be the best I can be…"

_I will be the most_ powerful _Jedi ever_… With effort, he shook off the memory.

Padmé nodded slowly. "But you're more than that, Anakin. You're very… how to put this… well, wild."

"Wild?" he echoed, eyebrows shooting skyward.

"Yes. Untamed. Spirited."

"Ah." He was still confused.

She shook her head. "That doesn't mean that you aren't bound by the rules, but at the same time, you shouldn't settle for other people's low standards, and I think that's what's happened to you. From what I understand of the Jedi Order, ambition isn't exactly promoted."

"For good reasons," Anakin hastened to point out, not really disagreeing with Padmé but feeling an inexplicable need to defend the Order.

"Yes, for good reasons," she agreed. "But there's such a thing as _healthy_ ambition, and that should be encouraged. If you settle for simply helping people, you might do just that, but you probably won't go very far. If you give yourself a specific goal, like helping orphans – or, yes, slaves – you'll probably get farther and do more."

"But only as far as the Council will allow," Anakin countered bitterly. "After all, we follow the Force, not our own desires."

Padmé pinned him with a scrutinizing gaze. "Is that so?" she challenged quietly.

"Yes," he said uneasily.

Padmé shook her head again. "I'm sorry, Anakin, but I've seen or heard a few too many instances where Jedi did what was politically correct, not what was _right_."

"But not…" The words froze in Anakin's throat, choking him. _But not me_, he'd intended to say, but that would be a lie. He and Obi-Wan _had_ been pushed to do things that were politically correct rather than morally right.

He looked away, unable to meet his wife's penetrating gaze. "What do you want me to do?" he pushed out past the lump in his throat.

"What I _want_ you to do is for you to decide what _you_ want to do," she said gently. "Anakin, I respect the Jedi. I agree with them on many accounts. But I also think that there are things about them that are wrong—and I'm not saying that I want you to leave the Order," she added hastily, in response to his sharp double-take. "But… all your life, you've been told what to do, what to think—by Watto, by your mother, by the Jedi…

"For children, that's necessary, because they need a stable foundation to start with. And teenagers, they need that foundation to build up on. But you had your foundation torn out from under you, were given a new one, and you kind of act like you're still floundering. You need to decide what you believe—not because your mother said so or Obi-Wan says so or the Jedi say so. If there are ideals that you act upon, you need to believe them on your own. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Anakin slowly nodded. It was radical—the Council would likely censure Padmé promptly for daring to say such things—but it made sense. "I think so."

"Good," she smiled. It was only then that Anakin realized how much this discussion had taken out of her. Her face was drawn and pale, and her sense in the Force flickered with weariness and pain.

"You get some rest now, Padmé," he murmured, stroking her cheek.

"I will," she assured him quietly. "But think about what I said…"

"I will, love," he promised. "Now get some sleep."

Padmé nodded and responded willingly to the light touch of the Force that Anakin sent her way, settling into her covers and drifting off to sleep.

Anakin sighed and pulled out his datapad. "Guess it's time to do some soul-searching," he muttered. "Obi-Wan would be proud."

He wandered the short distance to the nearby bluff overlooking the lake, then flopped down into the grass. Tapping the stylus against his chin, he let his mind wander over every belief he'd ever heard, and started typing.

* * *

"Well, we're a go," Obi-Wan told Siri. "Everything checks out."

"Terrific," she smiled, taking a seat in the copilot's chair. "Let's get off this rock and find our MIAs."

"As you wish," he replied easily, lifting the _Millennium_ off into the sky.

* * *

There was a gentle but persistent movement to her right. She moaned and tried to ignore it, but the movement wouldn't go away. Irritated, she opened up her eyes and saw her husband bent over her. "Anakin, what in the galaxy… what time is it?"

"A few minutes past midnight," he replied, unabashed.

Padmé huffed and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I just finished writing on my datapad, and I wanted you to see it. New Year's resolutions, if you will." Anakin held out the datapad for her, and—rolling her eyes—she took it.

"You couldn't have waited until it was morning, could you?" she whispered dryly.

"It's past midnight," he countered easily. "Therefore, milady, it is morning."

She sighed and shook her head. "All right, all right…" She activated the datapad and began to read. Some of what he'd written was pretty straightforward, and some was more complicated. But two things caught her completely by surprise. One was about the recent… well, massacre of the Tuskens…

_I don't want to ever do again what I did at that Tusken camp. I didn't lose control_—_I just wanted revenge. All I wanted was blood, and I got it. But it… it hurt. It _still_ hurts. It reminds me of that old saying that, if you go out for revenge, you've got to dig _two_ graves. One for the person you get revenge on, and one for yourself. I think a little part of me died that night. I won't_—_I _can't—_let that happen again. It was like a nightmare, only it was _real_. And instead of a monster chasing me, _Iwas_ the monster. I don't want to be a monster, not ever again._

Her eyes watered, and she wanted to say something, anything. But the lump in her throat wouldn't let her, so she continued on. What she found soon after was even more touching.

_I want to be a father. I want Padmé and me to have children_—_a lot of children. I want us to be a close family. I want to raise my children with love and, yes, patience. I want my children to know that they will always be safe, always be loved. I want to teach them what I've learned, to teach them not to make the mistakes that I already have. I want to be a good daddy._

When she finished, she looked up at her husband and found that she could speak. "Ani…" She shook her head in wonder. "Anakin, if you can hold to this—to all of it—you'll be fine. You'll be better than fine." She gave him the strongest smile she could muster.

And he gave her a dazzling grin in return. "I hope so, Padmé," he murmured, easing himself down to curl around her. "I sure hope so."

"_People just don't talk like that anymore."_

—Ben Gates, Abigail Chase, _National Treasure_

"_All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you."_

—Gandalf, _The Fellowship of the Ring_

**Author's Note:**

All right, credits time. The words that Obi-Wan quoted are actual canonical lines—Jolee Bindo from KOTOR. They were deliberately but only slightly mis-worded for realism's sake, due either to how they were recorded or Obi-Wan's memory. The Siriwan resolution was inspired by the Cary Grant/Deborah Ker film _An Affair to Remember_—great movie. Padmé pushing Anakin to figure out what he believed in—which, you can guess, is pretty important to the story—was inspired by an SW fic called _Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil_. In that fic (which, btw, is no longer online, sadly), Anakin is encouraged to do pretty much the same thing. My fic is not derivative of _Midnight_, but it _does_ parallel the other fic in some places (then again, most AUs share parallels with other AUs anyway *cheeky grin*).

…It's midsummer, and my family hasn't watched Star Wars yet this year (we usually do it during the summer). *sighs* Writing this fic has given me _serious_ Star Wars fever. It's torture. I'm just glad I now have the OT scores to enjoy (especially TESB—that's my favorite, the music is spectacular).

One more little rant. Grand Admiral Thrawn. I know that some fans don't care for him, but speaking for myself… I'm rereading the Thrawn Trilogy, for only the second time all the way through since my brother and I first bought it a few years ago. And, _sweet holy mother of Venus_, I LOVE THRAWN! He is just… wow. Wow, wow, wow. He's been one of my favorites ever since I first "met" him, but now… now I think that favoritism is wandering into the realm of fangirl love/obsession. Seriously. I just… holy cow, I'm in love with the greatest military mind the GFFA has ever seen. *sighs* I _crave_ more Mitth'raw'nuruodo material—there's far too little of it in the EU. Therefore, while I don't expect to find much _good_ fanfic written for him, I will search, anyway. I've got serious Thrawn-fever, mm-hmm. *nods*

Okay, that's it. Thanks for putting up with that… I just wanted to share it. Hope you don't mind!

**Sneak peek at the next chapter…**

One more week, Sidious decided. One more week, and then he would call out Separatist agents to search for Anakin and Amidala.

He needed to have damage control over Anakin's escapades, and this was one of those disturbing situations in which he had no control whatsoever.

Yes, that would have to change.

One more week.

…_**Please review!**_


	10. Day 9: Moving Mountains

**Author's Note:**

Well, I've been back online since July 14th, for all of you who were wondering. I've just been busy with school, life, and other projects (see note at the bottom of the page)—and I ran dry of inspiration for a while. Never fun, that. Please forgive the long wait!

Well, I've gotten a bundle of reviews since I last updated! One person reviewed just to tell me that the prologue was good but he wouldn't continue reading since it's an AU. *raises eyebrow* Okaaay… *shakes head* Other than that, I'm lovin' it. *soaks up the feedback* This is going to be interesting…

**To my reviewers:**

Valairy Scott: Thank you! Siriwan—one of my favorite ships! Although it is pretty important that I get the Anakin/Padmé right…

sodorland: Thank you very much. It's something I've come to see gradually: how Anakin never really decided for himself what he believed. Even at the end of his life, it was his love for his son rather than an innate conviction that won out. As for future events… well, we still have a few more chapters to go, and then a sequel. *smiles mysteriously*

Historian 1912: Hey, I _always_ enjoy reading your "rants," as you call them! =D Valid question there about Padmé, and honestly, I was actually waiting for somebody to bring it up.

I know that, in RotS, they say she's perfectly healthy, but, I'm sorry, that just doesn't hold water. (Ooo, considering that she was pregnant, that might not have been the _best_ choice of words… xD) Stress does things to the body, and Padmé had been put through a _mother load_ of stress. I once read a fanfic that, sadly, is no longer online, and I never copied it to my hard drive. But it explained the medical side of the story, what had happened to Padmé's body. Something about the heart… like a toxin was released or something because of major stress…? KRIFF, I can't remember! But it made sense and was perfectly believable.

For the purpose of the story, I wrote in the heart issue on the Naberrie side of the family (which, actually, makes sense, since Padmé's grandmother _did_ die the year before TPM, and civilians live longer in the GFFA than they do IRL). But realize this: Padmé died in RotS because _her husband had turned into a monster and turned on her_. _Here_, however, she suffers a crash and a miscarriage, but _she still has Anakin_. The most important part of her life is still there for her, and she's determined to be there for him for as long as she can be.

Of course, this chapter is where the situation comes to a head…

Fiona: Well, thank you! The Siriwan kiss… makes my inner fangirl happy. Anakin _did_ have some pretty bad injuries from the crash—the reason he's okay _now_ and Padmé's _not_ is because he can use a healing trance on _himself_, but he doesn't know how to do it on another person. So, actually, reality is still on my side~!

Mrs. Kenobi: I don't care much for most modern Christian music, but I adore Casting Crowns. I fell in love with "Praise You in This Storm" when I first heard it, and it fit so perfectly into Day 4. And I'm so glad that you love the interweaving of Christian faith! It's so wonderful that so many people have given me similar feedback!

Kelaria: Thanks! Christianity and historical details aside, I try to resort to Earthling concepts only when I don't know their GFFA equivalents. Well, the Jedi Order is really as far from allowing marriage as ever, but as one Jedi says in this chapter, the war is going to change things. ^^

Skywalker Queen: Thank you! Heh, yeah, Anakin still has his darker moments. It was actually kind of refreshing to write the part where he's fantasizing about killing Count Dooku, since it was a break from the angst.

**==Day Nine==**

**Moving Mountains**

_Many nights, we've prayed_

_With no proof anyone could hear_

_In our hearts, a hopeful song_

_We barely understood_

—Miriam, "When You Believe," _The Prince of Egypt_

It finally happened.

The moment Anakin had been dreading for the past week finally happened.

Padmé stopped breathing.

She had been sleeping, and he'd realized what was coming mere _seconds_ before it happened. When her heart stopped, he was already bent over her, his mouth pressed to hers, his hands in position to pump her torso.

He performed the CPR with a merciful numbness, as if he was merely an observer watching events unfold and not an actor within the performance itself. But his mind painstakingly tracked the passage of time, every second logged away as if in a computer. It was twenty-eight minutes, forty-one seconds before she actually started breathing on her own once more.

It was one more hour exactly before her heart-rate was satisfactory.

Only then did Anakin collapse against the sleeping bag, emotions whirling around within and threatening to rip him apart from the inside out. Terror, relief, desperation, love…

"God," he whispered, his vision blurred with tears, "please. _Don't take her yet_. Give us help. _Please_."

In a cry that came from the deepest part of his soul, he called out, "_Obi-Wan!_"

* * *

Obi-Wan fell back against his chair as if stung from a blow.

"Obi-Wan!" Siri cried. "Are you all right?"

"I…"

"_Obi-Wan!"_

"Anakin." That was Anakin's voice.

"Obi-Wan?" That was Siri's.

* * *

Anakin couldn't believe it—telepathy between himself and his Master had never been strong. "Master!"

"_Anakin, where_ are _you?"_ The words echoed distantly in his head.

"I don't know," he whimpered, pulling his knees to his chest like he did as a child. "Master, you _have_ to _hurry_. Padmé's… Padmé's…"

* * *

Fear stabbed through Obi-Wan's heart. Padmé. "Hold on, Anakin—we're coming."

"_Hurry, Master!"_

Then a maelstrom of images and sensations assaulted his vision…

Fire. Fear. A plummeting ship. Pain. Desperation. Love. Joy. Grief. Tears. A tiny form covered in fluid and blood…

_Oh Force…_

They had a _child_.

_Anakin and Padmé had a child_.

"_We _lost_ a_ _child,_ _Master."_

Then Obi-Wan saw the grave, and he inhaled sharply. "_Baby Skywalker_," he read in a murmur. "_Our Little Angel. Flown away to Heaven, the 7th month of year 13, PrS_. Oh, Anakin…" Those tremors they'd felt in the Force…

"Obi-Wan? _Millennium_ calling Obi-Wan," he distantly heard Siri say. "Hello…"

"_She's my_ wife, _Master."_ He wasn't shocked at this revelation, not now. _"And she's… she's_ dying._"_

The boy's voice overflowed with desperation and terror, and Obi-Wan couldn't console it. Any words of hope just now would be empty—if eternally-stubborn Anakin was _that_ certain Padmé would die, she probably would.

Unless Obi-Wan and Siri got there first.

Tuning out his surroundings, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and delved deep into the Force. He saw the galaxy spring to life before his mind's eye, felt the durable thread connecting his soul to Anakin's…

His connection to the netherworld began to fracture, and he strained to hold on. He had never done this before. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and his teeth clamped together so hard that his jaw hurt.

The connection held. He could see the thread slithering away from him into the void, skittering at a feverish pace until it lit upon a planet.

In the back of his mind, he felt the coordinates form themselves out of thin air, and with the gasp of a man who's come within an inch of drowning, he returned to the realm of the living.

"Hold… hold on, Anakin. We… we're coming."

_We're coming_.

* * *

Yoda's gaze swept the large hallway for the presence he'd sensed a few moments ago. Ah, _there_ he was. "Come, Mace," he called over his shoulder.

Mace Windu nodded from where he was conversing with another Master, then strode over to join his senior counterpart. Together, they approached two young men, who were obviously brothers.

The elder was in his early twenties—slightly unkempt, chin-length brown hair; hazel eyes; tanned skin. He wore the green robes of a Corellian Jedi. The younger boy could be no older than thirteen, his golden-brown hair styled much the same as his brother's, his eyes mostly grey with a hint of other colors, and his skin tanned but not as dark. He wore a simple fencer's tunic and black leggings.

Both were tall, the elder easily as tall as Mace and the younger well past 5'6", in that awkward stage of growth when tall boys are all arms and legs. Both exuded an air that Yoda felt was decidedly reminiscent not only of never-say-die Corellians but also of Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Masters," the elder brother greeted, he and his brother bowing respectfully.

"Jedi Starrider," Yoda nodded. "Met your brother, we have not."

Elladan Starrider nodded sharply. "Master Yoda, Master Windu, allow me to introduce my Padawan, Brendan Starrider."

"Hello," the boy said uncertainly.

"Ah, mistaken, then, I was," Yoda smiled, "for met you, Brendan, I certainly have, though several years ago, it was. And not so far did I have to look up to you, mmm?"

Brendan cracked a grin at that. "No, Master."

"We've just received a transmission from Jedi Tachi out on the search for Skywalker and Amidala," Mace cut in smoothly, turning to Elladan. "She said that Jedi Kenobi has determined their location and is heading there with all possible speed. She'll let us know when they make contact."

"Oh, thank God," Elladan breathed, his entire stance radiating relief. "Thank you for telling me."

"Ask, you did, to be informed," said Yoda. "Leave you in the dark, we would not."

The young Corellian bowed again. "Thank you, Master." Straightening, he grimaced slightly. "Uhh, Master… I realize that this is a severely inopportune time to ask, but…"

"Dan, I see Ahsoka Tano over there," Brendan interjected, nodding at a Togruta girl on the other side of the hall. "Can I go say hi? I haven't seen her since we were eight."

"Uh, sure, Bren—go 'head."

"Thanks." Brendan sketched a hasty bow to the senior Masters, saying, "Goodbye, Master Yoda. Goodbye, Master Windu." And he was gone.

Elladan gave the Masters a sheepish look, and Yoda decided to grab the reek by the horns. "Elladan, wish to speak with us about your activism, you do?"

"Yes, Master," Elladan admitted. "I was wondering if Gilraen and I could come up before the Council some time in the next two weeks."

Mace frowned. "Jedi Starrider, we are _at war_. This is _not_ the time for lobbying a radical resolution that will likely never be accepted by the Council."

Elladan's face hardened. "There never _will_ be a good time, Master. This war is already changing the Order, and that change isn't going to stop. The galaxy might see a very different Jedi Order by the end of the war."

"So certain, are you?"

The young man kept his eyes on Mace as he firmly replied, "Yes."

Yoda sighed, his ears drooping slightly. "Consider your request for a meeting, we will. Nothing do we promise, though."

Elladan exhaled and nodded. "I understand, Master. Thank you." He bowed and strode past the Masters, headed for his brother.

Yoda sighed again, more heavily this time. "Out of touch, we are getting, with this generation. Agree with young Starrider, I fear, many of his peers would."

There was only one such peer that Yoda had in mind, though, and they both knew it. "Skywalker," Mace said aloud.

"Skywalker," Yoda nodded. "In him, all of Qui-Gon's defiance, none of Qui-Gon's control. Right, Elladan was when spoke he of change in the Order. But damage, I fear, accomplished might be in the end."

* * *

If there was one thing Darth Sidious hated, it was a sudden lack of control over an otherwise well-controlled situation.

Anakin was a situation he'd had surprisingly good control over for the past ten years. Now, an idiotic former CIS agent had decided that sabotaging Anakin and Amidala's shuttle would advance the Separatist cause. _Former_, because, well… when Sidious had learned of it, he had been completely livid.

And that particular CIS agent was no longer among the living.

Sidious rose from his desk and paced his large red office. The disturbance in the Force he'd sensed a week or so ago must have been felt by just about anyone in-tune with the Force throughout the galaxy. If he were to guess, he would hazard that Amidala had died, and that the disturbance had been the backlash of Anakin's grief. Of course, he cared nothing for the Senator herself, but she had been growing into such a perfect piece of blackmail to use against Anakin.

Her death could have ripple effects in Sidious's plans.

Fortunately, Kenobi was out there right now, searching for his missing Padawan. Unfortunately, the Jedi had already been gone a week, with no success. Well…

_One more week,_ Sidious decided. One more week, and then he would call out CIS agents to search for the MIAs. He needed to have damage control over Anakin's all-too-frequent escapades, and this was one of those disturbing situations in which he had no control whatsoever.

Yes, that would have to change.

He stopped pacing and gazed out upon the glittering gem of a city that was Coruscant. _His_ glittering gem. The heart of his future empire.

A future Empire that needed the strength of the so-called "Chosen One."

One more week.

* * *

"So…" Siri pushed away from the navicomp and faced Obi-Wan, folding her arms. "You wanna tell me what's going on with Anakin?"

His face twitched, just perceptibly. That self-control that he pulled off so well nowadays. "He's afraid that the Senator will die."

Siri grimaced. "Stang."

His face twisted this time. "Indeed." He turned away— "They had a child."

She almost choked on her own saliva. "_What_? I thought you said—"

"I did, and I remain correct," Obi-Wan replied gravely. "They're married."

She felt as though her eyes had gone perfectly round. "Oh," was all she could manage.

"The baby died," he murmured.

"…Oh." _Oh, Anakin_… She bowed her head. "Obi-Wan, that's…"

"I know." There really wasn't much more to be said, was there?

Siri glanced up at the streaking light of hyperspace. _Hang in there, Anakin—we're coming_.

* * *

Anakin clung to Padmé like a lifeline. She was still unconscious, most likely in a coma. But that brief exchange with Obi-Wan…

For the past week, he'd been living in fear. Now, though…

He could _hope_ again.

_Now we are not afraid_

_Although we know there's much to fear_

_We were moving mountains long_

_Before we knew we could_

—"When You Believe"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Elladan "Dan" Starrider makes his premiere appearance (yes, you can expect to see more of him and his brother in the future); Yoda, Mace, and Sidious feature; and even Ahsoka gets a mention!

Amazing thing, here. This is supposed to take place in "August," two months after Geonosis. When Historian 1912 gave me his calendar conversion, he pointed out that the Battle of Geonosis took place in the fifth month, or _June in our calendar_. I actually got it right without even knowing it.

Oh, and if any of you are Thrawn fans, please check out my profile—I have three recent Thrawn fics there, one of them ongoing. "All You've Lost, All You've Won," "Mother's Heart, Father's Spirit," and _Legacy of Thrawn_ (in-progress). Feedback is welcome! =)

Oh, and as you might guess, next chapter is when Obi-Wan and Siri will finally find Anakin and Padmé. That's all the spoilers you're getting. _Vaya con Dios!_

_**Please review!**_


	11. Day 10: Though Hope Is Frail

**Author's Note:**

Well, my family is finally watching Star Wars for the year, and I find, once again, that I can't really sit through the whole of AotC. It's sad, 'cause that used to be my favorite out of the saga. Somewhere along the way, though, I lost my love for that one. Watching TPM was fun, though, and I hope to see the Clone Wars movie tonight. …_And_ I can't _wait_ to start on the OT. *grins*

**To my reviewers:**

Pearlmaidenredskyla: Ooo, lucky you! We were supposed to watch _Prince of Egypt_ for Passover (Good Friday, to be precise), but we got sick, and that effectively ruined our Easter. And this chapter is your favorite thus far? That is so funny, 'cause it sure wasn't mine! I actually felt that it was kinda below par, but I needed to move on with the story, so I posted it. Thank for your feedback on the telepathy! I was very… tentative about that.

Ani-Banani22: *laughs* Well, thank you! Sorry, you're going to have to wait one more chapter on Padmé.

Holly Short of the Lep recon: Yes, "Elladan" is from LotR. Stick around, look closely, and you'll find more tips of the hat to Tolkien. *winks* And thank you!

Valairy Scot: Well, this chapter shows that Obi-Wan and Anakin still have a lot to work out, but I think I can say without giving any major spoilers that _yes_, there's definitely hope now.

Angie: Hey, long time, no see! It's wonderful to have you back! *hugs* Thank you so much! And hey, there's nothing wrong with hoping for a happy ending! (Little secret: the only time I don't do happy endings—or passably happy endings—are in one-shots. Now _that's_ where I unload all my angst, which you can gather from the fact that I once did a brief anthology of character death fics for the _Buzz Lightyear of Star Command_ fandom. xD)

Civil-moon8: Well, thank you, I'm flattered! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

**==Day Ten==**

**Though Hope Is Frail  
**

_There can be miracles_

_When you believe_

_Though hope is frail_

_It's hard to kill_

—Ibid.

Darkness surrounded him, and Anakin was running from something—he wasn't sure what. All he knew was that he had to run. A cold, sibilant voice slithered out of the darkness.

"_Anakin_."

He didn't stop running.

A low, indistinct roar penetrated the darkness, getting closer and closer…

"_Anakin_," the voice repeated.

He didn't stop.

"_Anakin!_"

He stopped then. That was Obi-Wan's voice.

"_Anakin, come to me_…"

The roar drew nearer…

"_Anakin, wake up!_"

Anakin jerked awake, chest heaving. The roar was still there, and with a start, he recognized it.

The repulsorlifts of a freighter.

Obi-Wan.

He tore back the cover and sprang out of the tent to see an old, disc-shaped freighter settle onto the grass nearby. Almost immediately, the entrance ramp lowered, and a familiar and oh-so-welcome figure darted out of the ship and into the grey predawn of the early morning. Anakin rushed forward, meeting him halfway in an embrace.

"Master!"

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan pulled back and gripped his apprentice's shoulders tightly. "Good stars, don't you _ever_ scare me like this again!"

In another time, Anakin might have laughed. But there were more pressing concerns. "Master, Padmé…"

Obi-Wan nodded sharply. "Get her aboard and to the sickbay. Siri and I will gather your things."

Anakin was already running back to the tent. "Okay!" Inside, he carefully scooped Padmé up into his arms and hurried her out into the cool morning. On the way into the ship, he saw Siri Tachi pass him and briefly wondered why she was here.

Had the circumstances been different, Anakin would have jumped at the opportunity to study an old starship. Now, however, he merely strode quickly through the ship till he reached the small, closet-sized sickbay. Carefully, carefully, he lowered Padmé onto the cot and began hooking her up to the monitors.

* * *

"There's not much here," Siri observed, rushed, scooping up the sleeping bags and blankets.

"I see that," Obi-Wan nodded, adding a medkit to the pile in his arms.

They rushed aboard with the gear, then hurried back out to collapse the tent. Or rather, Obi-Wan moved to collapse the tent. Siri reached the spot, stood frozen for a few moments, then ran forward.

"Siri!" Obi-Wan called, hurrying after her. Catching up to her—standing stock-still once more—he panted, "Siri, what—"

She pointed towards the ground.

At the small slab of stone.

Obi-Wan's mouth went dry, and before he knew it, he was on his knees on the ground. He reached out a trembling hand to brush across the words cut into the rock. _Our Little Angel, Flown to Heaven_…

He looked up to Siri and could just make out her silhouette past the sudden water in his eyes. She looked down at him—her own face contorted—and her hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. It was all the comfort she could give.

His breath hitched.

* * *

He touched, almost reverently, the cool, damp earth. Not far beneath his fingertips lay a tiny body that had never gotten a chance to live.

A tiny life that was a part of himself, just as surely as _he_ was a part of _it_.

"I'm sorry," he whispered past the lump in his throat, struck with a profound sense of déjà vu. "I wish I could have done something, anything." He tried to swallow the lump and found he couldn't. "My son. My precious little son."

Tears blinded his eyes, and he didn't brush them away. "Don't worry, though. Mommy's gonna be okay, and we're gonna give you brothers and-and sisters to-to watch over fr-from Heav—"

He broke down into sobs.

A few moments later, a warm, strong, gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

"Maaaster," he sobbed. _Make it better. Take all this pain and guilt away. Please_.

"Anakin," his Master murmured, "we have to go. Padmé needs to get to a medcenter, and fast."

Anakin brushed the tears away on his sleeve. "All right." He stood, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Obi-Wan had to pull him away, gently, and his eyes never left the little grave marker until they were aboard the ship.

* * *

His Padawan was quiet, slumped in the chair opposite the cot in the tiny sickbay. Dark rings circled his blue eyes—exhaustion lined his face. Exhaustion, the pain of losing a child, and the stress of watching a spouse deteriorate.

"We'll take her to a private medcenter," Obi-Wan said quietly, interrupting whatever brooding thoughts Anakin might be having. "We don't want to draw attention to the pregnancy."

Anakin nodded wearily. "Master… are you… will you…"

Obi-Wan understood. "I think a period might be in order, there, somewhere," he observed without any real humor.

Anakin's eyebrows drew together. "Master."

Obi-Wan sighed, entered the room, leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed. "I won't tell the Council. That's your responsibility—yours and Padmé's."

The boy's forehead furrowed further. "Master—"

Obi-Wan held up a hand. "_However_. However, I won't make you do it." His voice softened. "I'm not happy about this, about you—the _both_ of you—going behind my back like this, but… But I'll keep your secret, as long as you need me to."

Anakin's shock shone past his exhaustion, and in a rare occurrence, he was quite obviously speechless. "…Master?" he finally pushed out.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but give the boy a small smile. "Let me read you something. It's… it's something I found a couple of days ago on the HoloNet."

The poor boy was absolutely bewildered by now. "Okay…"

Obi-Wan's smile deepened. "Just come on." He motioned his apprentice out of the room. "Siri can keep an eye on Padmé."

They entered the cockpit, and Obi-Wan pulled a datapad from his belt. "This is a children's book that I downloaded," he explained, "and I think it's fitting for…" He winced, then turned to face Anakin fully. "I know, I'm confusing you. Anakin… you're very special to me, more than you realize. And… that's _my_ fault. For not telling you."

"Master…"

"Stop," Obi-Wan chided gently. "You're starting to sound like a broken recording."

_That_ made Anakin smirk, just a little.

Obi-Wan smirked back, then returned his gaze to the datapad and began to read. "_Long, long ago, God made a decision—a very important decision… one that I'm really glad He made. He made the decision to make you_—"

* * *

Siri glanced at the readouts on the monitors, then returned her attention to Senator Amidala. She'd never seen the young woman in person, before, and she was curious—perhaps morbidly so, under the circumstances—about the woman who'd won the heart of the Chosen One. Padmé Amidala was certainly a beauty, but even in a coma, Siri sensed an aura in the Senator that spoke of strength, determination, and kindness.

She had to smile, just a little. It wasn't so difficult to see why Anakin had fallen so hard for Padmé Amidala.

* * *

"—_But as you grow and change, some things will stay the same. I'll always love you. I'll always hug you. I'll always be on your side. And I want you to know that… just in case you ever wonder_."

Obi-Wan looked up from the datapad as he finished reading and saw his Padawan's cerulean eyes water.

"Master…" Anakin looked away, shame radiating from him. "Master, I don't know what to say."

_This is _my_ fault, Anakin, not yours. _I_ am the Master—_I_ am the one who should have given you the love you needed_… "But _I_ do," Obi-Wan told him. "I _love_ you, Anakin." The boy looked up, startled. "I love you, and I'm sorry if I don't make that clear enough, often enough."

"Master, _I'm_ the one who should be sorry!" Anakin protested, jumping up from his seat and running his real hand through his hair. "All the things I've thought about you, _said_ about you…"

Obi-Wan frowned. "Wait a minute—_said_?"

Anakin froze. "Uhh, yes. Said. To Padmé. No one else."

_Oh, Anakin, you lie so badly_. Obi-Wan's eyebrows knitted together. "No one?"

Anakin shifted from one foot to the other. "Yes." A heartbeat. "No."

"The Chancellor." Not a question. Obi-Wan was fully aware of how much time his Padawan spent with the Supreme Chancellor.

Anakin looked down, all the confirmation his Master needed.

"I see," Obi-Wan said heavily.

"Master, I'm sorry!"

Obi-Wan stood, moved to the doorway. He paused, placed a hand on the doorjamb, looked at Anakin over his shoulder. "I said I love you, Anakin, and I do." He couldn't get the sorrowful note out of his voice. "But you said things _behind my back_ to a man that you chose over _me_ to be your mentor." He held up a hand to forestall Anakin's protest. "No, I know you did." He exhaled forcefully. "Taking that isn't easy, and forgiving it is even harder. I'm sorry."

The utterly crushed look on Anakin's face was too much to bear, and Obi-Wan nearly fled the cockpit, _sensing_ rather than _hearing_ Anakin weep.

_In this time of fear_

_When prayer so often proved in vain_

_Hope seemed like the summer birds_

_Too swiftly flown away_

—Ibid.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Okay, so we ended on a slightly-less-than-positive note. Hey, you didn't think that they could wrap up their issues _wham-bam_, did you? *tentative smile* It's still good that this is coming out _now_, though, rather than later.

Four more chapters, I think, and then we're done and on to the sequel, (cue drumbeat) an AU of RotS! That's gonna be fun! (And I'm gonna have to dig out the script, since I haven't seen the movie itself in ages… No, my family doesn't watch that one with the kids, so somehow, we've only watched it once. Back in early '06. I hope we can see it again soon.)

Btw, if any of you guys read Thrawn fics, I have several up on my profile now, including one chaptered fic, _Legacy of Thrawn_. It's been fun writing these pieces.

_**Please review!**_


	12. Day 11: Seeking Faith

**Author's Note:**

Here you go! Don't expect another one this week, sorry—you're lucky to get _this_ one this fast! The longer I worked at it, the longer it got. It's pretty important. Oh, and only one more "day" after this, then we do the epilogue (which will be pretty long for an epilogue). *cue applause* I can't believe it—after more than two years, I'm _finally_ going to finish this fic! I am so excited!

Oh, and I've also fixed the dates now, so that's taken care of! I'm relieved.

**To my reviewers:**

Pearlmaidenredskyla: Aww, I don't mean to make you fall apart! =) Thank you! …Actually, I _still_ feel like I'm churning these chapters out too fast for them to truly be up to par. *sighs* And no, I haven't watched RotS since '06. Now, I've seen clips since then, thanks to YouTube, but not the entire movie. I actually _have_ the _entire_ movie downloaded from YouTube so that I could just watch it whenever, but somehow, I never got around to watching it. I'll probably start checking it out soon. Anakin's immolation… I've never even really seen. No, seriously! When we were watching the movie and the part came, I didn't look. The most I've ever seen has been—get this—in AMVs. No, I kid you not.

Skatious: Thank you! The majority of this fic is sad, yes… but the ending is happy. (I can take a flood of angst just so long as I have a happy ending. =D)

**==Day Eleven==**

**Seeking Faith**

_You must look at your life_

_Look at your life through Heaven's eyes_

—Jethro, "Through Heaven's Eyes," _The Prince of Egypt_

Breakfast the next day started out quietly. Siri handed Obi-Wan and Anakin each a plate of sandwiches, which remained largely untouched. Siri herself, on the other hand, had no problem polishing off her three sandwiches, and even tried to snitch one of Obi-Wan's, just to get a reaction.

And she did—in the form of a brief scowl. She shrugged and withdrew her hand.

Eventually, she felt as though the brooding silence would choke her much longer if she let it continue, so she banged her tumbler on the game table and stood. "Will you two just talk and get this out of your system, already?"

Two pairs of blue eyes glared at her, ice in one pair and fire in the other. "I'll thank you to stay out of this, Siri," Obi-Wan warned, his tone brooking no argument.

Well, that was just real tough, then, wasn't it, because Siri was ready to give him _plenty_ of argument. "Then you'll hate me to stay _in_ it," she shot back, "and at the moment, I don't really care. This is _ridiculous_. You're separated for two weeks, and when you finally reunite, you get into a tiff that leaves you both sullen." In response to Obi-Wan's intensified glare, she added, "_Both_ of you. _Sullen_."

"I apologized—" Anakin began.

"And I said I'd accept that apology—" Obi-Wan retorted.

"No!" Siri cried, raising a silencing hand. "No, no, no!" She lowered her hand and voice, and continued, "Face it—you two are just plain angry at each other. Now, I don't know the circumstances, and to be honest, I don't want to know. What I _do_ know, though, is that Jedi aren't supposed to be angry with each other, so I suggest you work through your problems and do it _fast_."

"Why fast?" Anakin frowned.

"'Cause we're landing on Coruscant in an hour," Siri replied. "And right now, you two aren't fit to be seen by Yoda and Mace Windu, who will _undoubtedly_ be there."

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged sobered glances, eliciting a sigh of relief from Siri. "I'm going to go check on Padmé," she announced, moving toward the sickbay. "I suggest you two get cracking."

* * *

"Jedi Starrider, see you yesterday, I did not, so tell you the news, I could not."

Dan's face lit up, and Brendan felt his own face follow suit. "Obi-Wan found Anakin?" Dan asked eagerly.

"Indeed," Master Yoda nodded.

"_Hallelujah_!" Brendan crowed, punching the air with a triumphant fist.

"Amen!" Dan grinned. "Master, are they returning today?"

"In about an hour, will they arrive."

"That's terrific!" Brendan grinned. "Thanks for telling us, Master Yoda!"

The diminutive Jedi Master quirked a small smile. "Much sorrow, we have had lately. To experience joy, a welcome respite it is."

"Well, if you'll excuse me, Master," Dan bowed, "I'd like to go tell my wife the news."

"Go, you may," Yoda nodded, "but speak with your Padawan for a moment, I would."

Dan raised his eyebrows, and Brendan himself wondered about what the Grand Master could wish to speak with him. "Of course," Dan acquiesced. But as he strode away, he caught Brendan's eye with a look of warning.

Brendan watched him go for a few moments before looking down at Yoda. "Master, what is it you wanted?"

"Your opinion, I would like to know, on what your brother is proposing to the Council," Yoda explained.

Brendan's eyebrows shot skyward. "About attachment and celibacy?"

"Yes. What think you?"

"Uhhh…" Brendan blinked, thrown off-kilter. How was a thirteen-year-old blue-blooded Corellian boy who enjoyed stuffing trash into girls' lockers supposed to answer a question like that? "Well… I guess I agree with him…"

"Why?"

Brendan shook his head as if to clear it. "Because… because it's natural. I mean, without marriage, you don't have kids, and your people die out, eventually." He frowned. "Well, no, I guess you _can_ have kids outside of marriage, but you _shouldn't_. It's just… just…" He shrugged helplessly. "It's just _natural_, you know? I mean, the girl falls in love with the guy, the guy falls in love with the girl… and they get married. That's the way it's supposed to be."

"For some, yes, but not for all, is marriage meant," Yoda pointed out gently.

Brendan nodded slowly, pushing a hand through his shaggy golden hair. "Yeeeaaaah, I know that. Some people aren't, um, _inclined_ towards, uh, all that… love business." He blushed at his stammering. "But I don't think they're the majority."

"No, the majority, they are not," Yoda agreed. "But in that majority, the Jedi do not fall."

"Why?" Brendan challenged, before wincing at his own boldness.

Yoda's eyes widened, and his ears tilted up slightly. "From duty, attachment distracts. Completely devoted to the Force, a Jedi must be. Sacrifices, Jedi are called to make. Deny himself, a true Jedi must."

Brendan felt his gaze turn to durasteel. "Attachment brings _fullness_ to duty, Master. A married Jedi can still be devoted to the Force, can still make sacrifices, can still deny himself."

"Brendan—"

"It's not _right_, Master!" the boy blurted. "If you have to give up the person you love, that ought to be _your_ decision. It shouldn't be one that's forced on you!"

He must have looked more upset than he thought, because the ancient little Jedi sighed, his ears and entire posture drooping. "Go, you may, young one. Sorry, I am, to have upset you. But meditate, you should, on what I have said."

Brendan bowed. "_Mahn uhl Fharth bey ihn valle_, Master," he murmured, before turning away to find his brother.

He felt Yoda's gaze on him until he was out of sight.

* * *

Obi-Wan looked up from the datapad to meet Anakin's apprehensive blue gaze. "Anakin, I…" He blinked and shook his head. "I don't know what to say," he murmured.

Obi-Wan had just finished reading the resolutions Anakin had made on Beltaine less than three days ago—albeit an incomplete version. No one but Padmé knew of the Tusken camp, and Anakin didn't want to further damage Obi-Wan's already-fragile trust in him. Obi-Wan had taken the whole issue with Palpatine hard, and he didn't need the knowledge of his Padawan's wholesale slaughter of a village to top it off.

Anakin coughed and looked down, unable to meet his Master's eyes. He didn't want to tell Obi-Wan about the Tuskens, but now as never before, he felt a flood of guilt for concealing his crime.

"Anakin?" That was Obi-Wan's voice, above him. "Anakin, are you all right? You look ill."

_I _feel_ ill, Master. I feel ill, and I don't know if I can recover_. Anakin simply shook his head in silence.

A firm hand came under his chin and lifted it so that he had to make eye contact with Obi-Wan. "Good stars, Anakin, you _do_ look ill," the older man said, concerned. "Did you contract something while you've been gone."

Anakin shook his head again, tears beginning to blur his vision.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Anakin, what's wrong?"

The guilt was too much—Anakin felt as if he were drowning.

So in a haze of desperation and trust, he took a leap… and told his Master.

* * *

Siri fell back against the pilot seat, letting out an explosive breath. "Kriff," she murmured. She'd heard it all—the gritty story of Anakin finding his dying mother and taking revenge upon an entire village.

It'd been a little hard _not_ to hear Obi-Wan's shouts of frustration and shock and Anakin's screams of raw grief.

Anakin said—_screamed_—so much that Siri has a hard time remembering it all, just a few minutes after the storm had raged itself out. But she would never forget the raw, pure heartache in Obi-Wan's face as he said, _"I _do_ know what it's like, Anakin. I watched _my_ parent be struck down. _I_ wanted revenge, _I_ touched the Dark Side, and _I_ got it. And I held my parent in my arms as _his_ life bled away. Don't you _ever_ say that again. I _know_."_

Her own heart hurt so terribly, just remembering it. She never wanted to see that look in Obi-Wan again.

And Anakin… Dear, incorrigible, tainted Anakin.

Taking a shaky breath, she listlessly traced the edge of the console with a finger. "Oh, Anakin," she breathed. "What will they do with you?"

Marriage was a good enough reason for expulsion—she'd heard of two or three such cases. But for a Padawan to wipe out an entire village… That was going to the Dark Side. That was pardonable, depending on the circumstances, but severely punishable.

Punishment, possible expulsion…

And that, in turn, meant that Siri and Obi-Wan _couldn't_ tell the Council. Not now, when they needed every Jedi they had. Not now, when Anakin had a fledgling family hanging by a thread. Not now, when one little push could send Anakin falling, becoming the monster he'd been in slaughtering that village.

What a _kriffing_ mess.

The pilot console pinged, and she leaned forward. Time for realspace reversion. Five, four, three, two, one… She pushed the lever forward, the streaks of light collapsing to star-lines collapsing to stars.

Coruscant.

She growled something unrepeatable under her breath. Obi-Wan and Anakin were in absolutely no condition to be seen by Yoda, Mace, or any other Jedi. Even the detour they'd have to take to get Padmé to that hush-hush medcenter wouldn't take long enough.

Thinking quickly, she drummed her fingers on the console, then snapped them. They'd get Padmé to that medcenter, then deliberately steer themselves into a slow-moving skylane. That would work.

With the ease of one who's flown the Coruscant skylanes hundreds of times, Siri brought the old freighter into the atmosphere, ignoring the skylanes and speeding for the medcenter.

* * *

"We're here," Siri announced over the intercom.

"We'll—" Obi-Wan caught the crack in his voice, cleared his throat, and tried again—"we'll be right there." He turned to his apprentice, noting the bloodshot eyes and red nose. "You look awful," he observed quietly.

"I doubt you look much better," Anakin returned with zero energy.

"I probably don't." Obi-Wan ran a hand over his cheek. "You'd better wash up before we take Padmé out."

Anakin nodded dully as he pushed himself up and almost stumbled out of the room. Obi-Wan understood how he felt—utterly and completely drained. They'd been through so much stress these past two weeks, and it culminated in the past hour, when Anakin confessed to his slaughter of a Tusken village.

The thought still made Obi-Wan's stomach churn. Dozens of sentient beings—men, women, elders, children—_oh, Anakin, __**children**_—all dead.

Because of his Padawan.

Because Anakin had taken revenge.

What made it even worse was that, had their places been reversed, Obi-Wan feared that he himself might have done something similar.

"_Siri, it's not just that attachment was pulling Jedi away from their duties—it's that they allowed that attachment to draw them into the Dark Side."_

He shivered involuntarily, wrapping his arms around himself.

"_'Love doesn't lead to the Dark Side. Passion can lead to rage and fear, but it's not the same thing as love. Controlling your passions while being in love is what they should teach you to beware. But love itself will save you, not condemn you.'"_

He clamped his hand over his mouth, willing back the tears. He would _not_ cry—not now, not yet.

He still had a job to do.

* * *

The doctor and nurses were quiet, asking no questions beyond what they needed to know. They didn't ask why two Jedi had brought a well-known Senator to the small medcenter. They didn't ask why scans showed the Senator to have undergone a recent miscarriage. They didn't ask the two Jedi why they looked nearly dead on their feet.

But they _did_ tell the Jedi that "The Senator will live. You got her here just in time."

Anakin felt ready to break down from relief. "Really?"

"Yes," the doctor nodded, "but we'll need to keep her here for the next two weeks."

"I'm sure that will be just fine," Obi-Wan said gratefully. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Just doing my job, sir," the doctor said courteously, inclining his head briefly before returning to Padmé's room.

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan and found that he couldn't say a word. His heart felt as if it could explode from the sheer power of his relief, gratitude, and joy.

Obi-Wan exhaled sharply, his face a study in relief. "Well."

Anakin let out a choked sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. "She'll live, Master. She'll _live_."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "Yes, she will." He let out a choked sound of his own. "Thank God."

"Oh, I am," Anakin assured him, meaning every word of it. "It's nothing short of a miracle, Master."

"_God, give me a miracle."_ Well, he'd gotten his miracle. Not completely the one he'd asked for, but he'd gotten it. This time, Anakin let out a true sob. "I must be going crazy," he groaned.

"If you are, then so am I," Obi-Wan said sympathetically, moving forward and wrapping an arm around the younger man. "Come on, Anakin—let's get you home."

Anakin nodded obediently. _Home_. His master had _no_ idea how good that sounded.

* * *

As it turned out, Siri was of a different opinion. "Not yet," she told the men. "I'm taking us by the slow way. You two aren't fit to be seen by an _initiate_, much less a Knight, much less a Master, much less Yoda and Mace."

Obi-Wan folded his arms and frowned. "Siri—"

"Ah!" she said warningly. "I'm not taking _no_ for an answer."

Anakin was too exhausted to argue. "Whatever. I'm going to go lie down."

Siri's blue eyes turned pale and soft. "Sounds like a good idea to me. Go on, Anakin."

Anakin nodded gratefully and left the cockpit, though not before noting a wordless exchange between his Master and Siri. And sensing a tremor in the Force that he hadn't felt before.

There was something there that…

No. Oh Force, _no_. Surely not Obi-Wan! Siri, _maybe_, but not rule-bound Obi-Wan!

"_But I'll keep your secret, as long as you need me to."_

Anakin collapsed onto the cot in the small sleeping quarters. He'd always believed his Master to be too distant from the Living Force to _feel_ much of anything, much less love. Well, not _always_ believed, because there had been times, however rare, when Obi-Wan had proved himself quite capable of deep emotion. But…

Anakin let out a half-hysterical laugh. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Siri Tachi. It _almost_ fit, almost made sense.

Deciding that he had _definitely_ lost his sanity now, he shut his eyes and succumbed to a deep sleep such as he had not had in a long time.

* * *

Obi-Wan seated himself quietly in the copilot chair, his eyes never leaving Siri. Eventually, she glanced away from the forward viewport to say, "Will you stop looking at me like that?"

"What _else_ do you expect when you effectively _kidnap_ me and my Padawan?"

"For an hour at the most," she shot back. "Give me a break!"

"Siri—"

"And go get yourself some sleep—you need it."

"Siri—"

"Better yet, go meditate."

"Siri."

She sighed, turning to him once more with those big blue eyes. "What?"

"This is hard for me," he said quietly.

Her expression instantly turned sympathetic. "I know. I lost my Padawan, don't forget. I know what it's like to be disappointed by the boy you raise."

_Ferus_. Somehow, he'd wrapped himself up so deeply in his own issues with Anakin that he _had_ forgotten that Siri'd had a Padawan that left before he made it to Knighthood. She could understand, in part, what he was going through. "Oh Force," he breathed, suddenly ashamed. "Siri, I'm sorry—"

"Hey, don't," she said, holding up a hand. "I mean, it's not _okay_, but… you know." She shrugged, then frowned thoughtfully. "I'd better get in touch with the Senator's security… Captain Typho, right?"

He nodded dully. "Good idea." He ran a hand through his hair and stood. "Maybe I _will_ go meditate."

"Sounds like a good idea," she nodded back, her azure eyes gentle. "I'll let you know when we arrive."

He nodded again. Of course, she'd let him know anyway, but it was more of a way of saying that she'd _be_ there for him.

He hadn't had anyone to truly confide in since Qui-Gon died. It was comforting to know that Siri was willing to let him confide in her, if he needed to.

Was that part of attachment? Maybe. Maybe the Jedi weren't as detached from relationships as they believed themselves to be.

* * *

"Anakin!"

The older Padawan looked up at the sound of his name, and his exhausted face lit up with a tired grin. "Brendan!"

Brendan Starrider grinned back from where he stood with his brother, Master Yoda, and Master Windu. "Glad to have you home!"

Anakin was the first to disembark the old freighter, followed by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Siri Tachi. All three bowed to Yoda and Mace Windu.

"Grateful, I am, that found you, Obi-Wan and Siri did, Anakin," Yoda greeted gently.

"You had the entire Temple in an uproar, worried for you," Master Windu observed dryly.

"Nice to know people care," Anakin smiled briefly, with little enthusiasm.

"Go to the medbay, you should," Yoda advised. "Then get some rest."

Anakin bowed again, his sense in the Force radiating relief. "Thank you, Master."

While Obi-Wan and Siri lingered to speak with the two Masters, Dan and Brendan followed Anakin as he left the hangar. "You look like the walking dead," was Dan's first cheerful observation.

"Thanks, Dan," Anakin said with the tone of one who's survived everything life can throw at him and is now just plain bone-tired.

"Lay off, big brother," Brendan advised. "Anakin, how's the Senator?"

Something indecipherable flashed across the older boy's face. "She's been very badly injured, but the doctor says she'll be okay."

"Really? That's great! I mean, I hear she's one of the few decent Senators left, and right now, we need all the decent people we can get."

Anakin looked down at Brendan with something approaching a fond smile. "She's a lot better than decent, kid."

"She's pretty," Dan said knowingly.

Anakin sighed. "Dan, if I wasn't so tired, I'd be sorely tempted to smack you."

Dan had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry, Ann. I shouldn't be a pain, after all you've probably been through."

Anakin's face twisted momentarily, and Brendan caught a flash of grief from the older boy. "Yeah."

Brendan frowned, his naturally curious mind tentatively reaching out toward the Chosen One's consciousness—

It rebounded. Just before his mind bounced off of Anakin's mental shields, he felt a sense of warning, like "don't go there." He winced. He liked Anakin a lot, knew that the older Padawan returned the sense of comradeship… but there were times when Anakin's intensity was just a bit unsettling.

"So, have you made any progress with the Council?" Anakin abruptly asked Dan.

Dan's hazel eyes flicked between his friend and his brother, having sensed something of the brief exchange. "Not really. The Masters are 'considering' a hearing for Gil and me—I'm not holding my breath, though."

Anakin exhaled heavily. "I don't think they'll buy it, Elladan."

"If we give up, yeah, they won't," Dan frowned. "But I'm not going to, and I hope you won't, either."

Anakin shot him a sharp double-take. "What do you mean?"

Dan's eyes turned hard. "I think you know."

"…Know what?" Brendan asked, eyes flicking warily between the two older men.

Anakin pushed past him. "None of your business, Brendan."

"I'm here, Anakin."

The Chosen One stopped and turned at Elladan's voice. "What?"

"I'm here," Dan repeated, taking a step forward and making eye contact with Anakin. Brendan didn't understand the subtext, but he knew it was big. "If you need me… or Gilraen… even my dad… we're here for you."

Anakin seemed to process that for a moment before nodding slowly. "Thanks, Dan," he murmured, before turning once more and heading for the medbay.

"What was _that_ about?" Brendan demanded, once Anakin was out of earshot.

His brother inhaled deeply. "_That_… was something that's going to be important sometime in the future." Dan turned to Brendan with a faint smile. "Really important."

* * *

Anakin was lying in bed, staring at the twilit Coruscanti skyline out the window, when he felt his Master enter their apartment. "Evening," he said, just loud enough to let the sound carry into the living room.

"Good evening." In a moment, Obi-Wan materialized at the door of Anakin's room. "How are you holding up?"

"Good," Anakin replied truthfully. "Had another nap… best sleep I've had in I can't remember how long."

"I'm glad." Obi-Wan moved forward to sit on the edge of the bed. "The Chancellor called," he said calmly, "asking to see you, but I told him you were recovering."

"Thanks," Anakin murmured. A quick brush against his Master's consciousness told him that Obi-Wan really had forgiven him. His heart soared. "Master…"

"Anakin, I, uh, I'd like to explain something," Obi-Wan said, almost tentatively. He folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "About why I've been accepting of your marriage."

Anakin sat up, frowning curiously. "I'm listening."

Obi-Wan nodded. "…Right. Well… it started with Elladan Starrider."

Anakin studied his Master's face. "You've been talking with Dan?"

"Yes, I have. It's been very… interesting, to say the least. I know some things now that I didn't know before. But that isn't all."

Something clicked in Anakin's mind. "Siri."

Obi-Wan shot him a double-take. "Siri."

Anakin felt a smile creep up on him. "Master, you and Siri aren't…"

Obi-Wan looked away.

Anakin found himself bursting out in disbelieving laughter. "You are! You and Siri are attached!"

"Yes," Obi-Wan hissed. "Now will you keep it down before the whole Temple hears you?"

Anakin pressed his gloved hand over his mouth. "Sorry, Master," he said, his words muffled and his eyes dancing over the leather glove. "It's just… this is _you and Siri_ we're talking about."

Obi-Wan glanced heavenward, a move his eyes had made probably a million times since taking Anakin on as his Padawan. "Yes, thank you, Anakin—I think we've established that fact."

Anakin managed to cap his mirth enough to lower his hand. "So, what are you and she going to do about it?"

"We're not sure," Obi-Wan admitted. "Right now, we're committed to allow ourselves free rein, more or less, for the next six months. After that… well, we'll see where we stand."

Anakin nodded sagely, then abruptly switched to "devious" mode. "Can I be the best man?"

Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged—he'd probably expected a quip like that. "You didn't let _me_ be _yours_."

"That was different!" Anakin protested.

"How was it different, my young apprentice?"

"You didn't know!"

"You could have told me!"

"I didn't want to get in trouble!"

"I would have found out eventually!"

Abruptly, Anakin began to laugh again, heartily, falling back onto the bed. "Master, it's so _good_ to be home!"

"It's good to _have_ you back," Obi-Wan grinned, chuckling himself.

Anakin sprang up suddenly and threw his arms around his Master, nearly tackling Obi-Wan to the floor. "Thank you, Master," he said feelingly. "Thank you for everything."

He felt Obi-Wan's arms wind around him. "My pleasure, Anakin."

_Yet now I'm standing here_

_With heart so full, I can't explain_

_Seeking faith and speaking words_

_I never thought I'd say_

—Tzipporah and Miriam, "When You Believe," _The Prince of Egypt_

_

* * *

_

**Author's Note:**

Ha! A chapter ending on a happy note! Woo-hoo!

Oh, and hope you don't mind the Starriders. You're going to be seeing more of them in the future. …Writing a 13-yr-old Corellian Jedi boy was a definite challenge for me. =P

_**Please review!**_


	13. Day 12: His Wonderful Life

**Author's Note:**

Well, here it is, finally! The last chapter before the epilogue! Hope you guys didn't mind the wait. Once I really buckled down to this chapter, I enjoyed writing it. It flowed very easily once I got past the hump of the second and third scenes.

The epilogue I hope to have finished by the end of the month, along with the prologue of the sequel, _Mo Ghile Mear_. I think the epilogue will be longish, so I'll have to work fast. I must admit, I'm just the littlest bit apprehensive, because I'll be introducing an element that I've seen in fics before, but it's never been pulled off correctly. So if I can pull it off… it'll be interesting. Yeah.

Oh, and I must say, though, before I go into my review replies, that Anakin and Obi-Wan's told-but-not-shown "discussion" about the Tusken Raiders wasn't exactly original to me. Yesac's wonderful _The Finer Shades of Why_ included an intense scene between those two over that exact topic, including the same parallel between the two men over their losses that you saw in Day Eleven. When I was trying to write that part, I knew that I could never do it justice with my own imagination, without ending up plagiarizing Yesac. So I decided to "tell" you the scene through Siri, and insert one quote from Obi-Wan that was very much influenced by _The Finer Shades of Why_. So, my apologies to Yesac for not disclaiming that in the last chapter.

Along those lines, the opening of this chapter was inspired by a scene from Aria Saralyn's lovely AU _Forgiven_.

**To my reviewers:**

Kelaria: Well, as I've just said, the parallels aren't original to me, really. *blushes* But at least I can claim credit for the way I write Siriwan. Thank you!

Pearlmaidenredskyla: You know, I actually kind of forgot that the whole telepathy scene was your idea—so thank you very much! As it turned out, it made a fantastic plot device for moving the story forward.

And thank you for your encouragement. I _am_ satisfied with _this_ chapter, this time, so that's good. And yeah, I'll watch RotS—don't worry. In fact, an opportunity might be approaching soon…

angie: Thank you very much! Oh, I love the chemistry between Obi-Wan and Siri in the books, and I work to stay true to that in this fic. One of my absolute favorite moments between them is when they're getting into disguises (_Jedi Quest 8: The Changing of the Guard_), and she picks out something that he doesn't like, and _he_ picks out something even worse that _she_ doesn't like! Lol! They are _absolutely_ cute together.

And I'm glad you approve of the Corellian Jedi element. Sticking with Michael Stackpole's original vision for Corellian Jedi, it's a great plot device that holds a lot of potential for future changes.

Jedi Angel001: Well, Ani and Obi aren't quite on the best of terms yet, but they're definitely improving. Oh, I wish so badly that Siri really _could_ have been with Obi-Wan—yes, it would have changed canon drastically, but still! And I can't say that Dan Starrider will have much luck with the Council… _yet_. ^^ Give it some time.

**==Day Twelve==**

**His Wonderful Life**

"Aloha_ means _family_. _Family_ means no one gets left behind, or forgotten."_

—_Lilo and Stitch_

"Rise and shine, Padawan!"

A Force-hurled pillow flying at him was the only response he got. He ducked, and the pillow sailed safely overhead and through the bedroom door.

"Come on, Anakin!" he cajoled cheerfully.

The same pillow came around for another pass, and Obi-Wan sidestepped it.

"Anakin, really!" He was more amused than irritated—this scene had been repeated many times in many different ways over the past several years. Neither of them were exactly "morning people," but Anakin was definitely the worse of the two. "What would Master Yoda say?"

The sense of his Padawan grew distinctively less sleepy and decidedly more frustrated. The pillow barreled for Obi-Wan's stomach. With a sigh, he decided to let the boy diffuse that frustration. _Anakin, the things I do for you,_ was his only thought as he deliberately allowed the pillow to connect—

"_Oof_!"

—And knock him to the floor of the hall beyond.

Grumbling, he sat up and rubbed his back. "_Now_, Anakin," he ordered, all trace of playfulness gone.

"Coming," his apprentice's muffled voice replied.

Two seconds later, Anakin's tall frame appeared in the doorway, hair mussed and bedclothes rumpled. "Morning, Master," he mumbled, extending a hand.

Obi-Wan took it and hauled himself up, then tossed the pillow back onto the bed. "Good morning, my young Padawan," he said mildly, as if nothing had happened. "Get dressed. I got a comm call a minute ago."

"Mm?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Padmé woke up."

Anakin nearly choked. "_What_? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did!"

With a growl, Anakin returned to his room and pulled a clean Jedi suit out of his drawers.

Obi-Wan raised an almost aristocratic eyebrow. "My. This is the fastest you've ever gotten dressed."

Anakin shot him a death glare, then pushed past to leave their apartment. Shaking his head, Obi-Wan followed.

* * *

"Padmé?" he whispered hoarsely, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over her.

Her eyes fluttered, drifted open, focused wearily on him. "Ani."

He smiled weakly, relief flooding his heart. She was _alive_. "Hey."

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out this time.

"Shhh, don't try to talk, love," he soothed, his own voice trembling. He laid his real hand on her arm. "Looks like we didn't need to go through all that 'in-case-I-die' stuff," he continued, his voice still wavering. "You pulled through."

She managed a small smile. "Must… be… stronger… than I… thought," she rasped.

A stronger smile spread across Anakin's face. "I never doubted your strength, angel."

She shook her head fractionally. "Mira… _miracle_… Ani."

He closed his grip around her arm and looked down. "I think it might have been. God knew that I still needed my angel."

He felt a tug on his arm, looked up, and understood. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her. She breathed a sigh of contentment.

"Love… you… Ani."

His heart burst with love and gratitude. _Thank you, God. Thank you, God_. "I love you, too, angel."

* * *

Anakin left a sleeping Padmé in her room just in time to see Captain Typho and Dormé appear in the hallway. "We just received word on her status," the captain said without preamble.

"Is she awake?" Dormé asked almost simultaneously.

"She just went back to sleep," Anakin said in a quieter voice. He gave a slight smile. "She's doing all right."

Dormé's eyes fluttered shut and she nodded in wordless relief. Typho, however, frowned. "How did this happen in the first place?"

Anakin caught the undercurrent of suspicion and bristled. "A Separatist agent sabotaged the ship," he said curtly. "I was lucky to have any control at all over the crash."

The lines in the security officer's face softened marginally. "I'm sorry, Anakin. But her safety _is_ my job."

"As it is mine," Anakin returned as evenly as he could manage.

Dormé's liquid brown eyes flicked back and forth between the two men. "Well, I'd like to go in and see her," she decided. "Unless I shouldn't…?"

Anakin shook his head, grateful to the handmaiden for diffusing the situation. "No, go ahead. Just try not to wake her up."

Dormé nodded. "All right." She slipped past Anakin and into the room beyond.

Obi-Wan appeared, then, from around a corner, looking satisfied. "Good morning, Captain," he nodded to Typho, before turning to Anakin. "Well, Anakin, if you're ready, we really should go. You need to report to the Council, don't forget."

"Oh… right." Anakin _had_ forgotten—he still had to report on the success of his and Padmé's mission. "Well, um… goodbye, Captain. I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, Anakin," the older man nodded back. "Goodbye, Master Kenobi."

"Farewell." Obi-Wan stepped forward, took his Padawan's arm, and steered him away. "Let's not try to make a scene, shall we?" he murmured once they were out of earshot.

"You heard that?" Anakin muttered back.

"A little hard _not_ to, unfortunately." Obi-Wan sighed. "Look at it from his point of view, Anakin: his charge, already a target for assassination attempts, marries a boy who let her run off to Geonosis to partake in the first battle of the war—"

"That wasn't my fau—"

"—_and_ then just two months later, is her only protection for a mission that ends in a crash that almost ends her life. If I were in his position, I wouldn't be happy, either."

Anakin looked away. "Yeah," he said in a low tone.

Obi-Wan knew that was all the concession he was going to get, and fell silent, much to his Padawan's relief. A minute later, they were on their way back to the Temple.

* * *

The middle-aged man looked up from his desk, surprise and delight gracing his lined features. "Anakin!"

Anakin gave a small smile and bowed, betraying nothing of the ambivalence he felt now, thanks to his confrontation with Obi-Wan. "Chancellor."

"My dear boy—" Chancellor Palpatine rose from his seat and moved around the desk—"it is such a relief to see you returned to us safe and sound! I was quite frantic with worry over you and Senator Amidala."

Anakin accepted that a tilt of his head. "Thank you, sir. The Senator suffered the worse damage, but we survived."

The Chancellor halted directly before the Padawan, his face a study of grandfatherly concern. "Yes, I've seen the report on Padmé's health—a cardiac arrest prompted by a heart condition." He shook his head. "How terrible for one so young and so vibrantly alive!"

Anakin briefly closed his eyes, so tempted to admit to his feelings for Padmé if not his marriage right then and there. _Not now_, a little voice whispered at the back of his mind.

"Anakin?" Palpatine's brow furrowed. "Is something the matter?"

Anakin blinked, shook his head. "No, no, I… my apologies, sir."

The older man's sharp blue eyes searched his face. "Anakin, you seem quite distant this afternoon. Have you further problems weighing on your mind?"

"No, sir." It was a lie, and they both knew it.

"Anakin," Palpatine chided gently. "Really. I deal with my colleagues in the Senate day-in and day-out—do you really think I don't know a lie when I see one?"

The Padawan winced. "Sir, I just… it's private, sir. Something I need to work out on my own. I hope you understand."

A shadow flitted so briefly over Palpatine's face that Anakin wasn't sure that he hadn't imagined it. Then the Chancellor smiled ruefully. "Very well. Of course, I understand. After all, a young man can't rely on his elders forever—sooner or later, he must spread his own wings and fly. I'm sure your own wisdom will be sufficient to resolve your dilemmas."

Anakin bowed from the neck, his feet shifting slightly as he did so. "Thank you, sir."

"Well, don't presume to stand on ceremony, my boy," Palpatine said lightly, his ice-blue eyes twinkling. "I can see that you're anxious to be off somewhere. Some occasion to celebrate your return, perhaps?"

For the first time, Anakin smiled genuinely. "Yes, sir. A few friends at the Temple—they're planning on a takeout dinner, maybe a few board games, and an old filmdrama. Just… a quiet evening."

"Ah," Palpatine smiled. "That is thoughtful of them. Of course, you're probably still too tired from your ordeal to have a night out on the town."

Anakin nodded.

"Let me guess: this would be the Starriders, would it not? From Corellia, I believe?"

"Yes, sir," Anakin nodded.

"What is to be the featured filmdrama?"

"Ah, _It's a Wonderful Life_. Master Obi-Wan says it's a classic, though I've never seen it myself."

Palpatine's eyes lit with recognition. "Ah, yes, indeed it is—I saw it once myself, many years ago. Quite a superb drama, to be sure. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Anakin's smile went just short of a grin. "I hope so." He glanced at the window. "I really should go now, Chancellor—thank you for seeing me."

"Think nothing of it, dear boy," Palpatine said warmly. "You know that you are always welcome here. Do give my regards to Master Kenobi and the Starriders."

"I will," Anakin promised, sketching another bow. "Goodbye."

"Farewell, Anakin."

It was strange, Anakin reflected as he left the Chancellor's office, that he could feel so warmed by someone completely blind to the Force. When he stood in the same room as Palpatine, he might as well have been alone, as far as the Force was concerned. The Supreme Chancellor was one of those rare cases of people born with a congenital defect that blocked them from the Force completely—Anakin could no more sense his presence or feel his mind than he could a plasteel box.

And yet, Palpatine always gave him such a surety that he was cared for and loved.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tended to remain quite aloof, not easily revealing his feelings. So disconnected from the Living Force, Anakin had always thought.

Until just yesterday. Now, he wasn't sure _what_ to think.

Palpatine—warm, caring, affectionate.

Obi-Wan—cool, aloof, reserved.

Obi-Wan, who had told Anakin that he loved him.

Anakin sighed. Why did life have to be so complicated?

* * *

"Clarence!" the man cried. "Clarence! Help me, Clarence. Get me back. Get me back. I don't care what happens to me. Only get me back to my wife and kids. Help me, Clarence, please! Please! I want to live again!"

Everyone's attention was riveted to the heart-wrenching scene playing out on the viewscreen. Everyone, that is, except Obi-Wan.

His attention was riveted to the young man a seat away from him—the young man whose cerulean eyes were misting over, who was mouthing the words of the man on the screen.

"I want to live again. I want to live again. Please, God, let me live again."

For a long, precious moment, Obi-Wan saw him again. Saw the little boy he'd taken so hastily under his wing, the little boy who'd cried the first few nights, deprived of both his mother and the man who had freed him. Saw the child who'd once gathered up his courage to ask, "Master, do you love me?"

Shame washed over Obi-Wan as he recalled his surprised and confused reaction, and the hurt in the child's eyes when he realized that Master didn't know how to answer.

Anakin never asked again.

Obi-Wan wondered how different things might have been had he said "yes," had he allowed Anakin to see his genuine and completely unprofessional attachment to the boy, had he been more open all these years.

But unlike Anakin and his emotional transparency, Obi-Wan was a private man. His thoughts and feelings were his own, even when they concerned others. The level of transparency he had achieved on the rescue mission was, by far, the highest he'd reached since his early teens. It still disconcerted him, in a way, to be that open, that vulnerable.

But perhaps that was also a weakness, to fear that vulnerability. Or was it merely common sense?

Stars, he had much to meditate on—and with the ongoing war, very little time in which to do it. For now, though, he'd do as Qui-Gon often instructed: keep his concentration focused here and now.

Rippling laughter pulled him back to the realm of the living as the others watched the star of the drama run through his hometown, shouting "Merry Christmas" at every building he passed. Obi-Wan had to smile, himself. He remembered the one time he'd watched the filmdrama with Qui-Gon, who'd said that the old drama had always been a favorite.

He settled back in his seat to concentrate on the remainder of the story.

* * *

Anakin smiled pensively as George Bailey of _It's a Wonderful Life_ got his happy ending. The entire story he'd taken to heart in a way that he'd never done before with any novel or holodrama.

On the screen, George's brother Harry declared, "A toast—to my big brother, George, the richest man in town!"

Sitting on Anakin's left was Gilraen Starrider, and at that point, she leaned in towards Anakin and whispered, "That's you, hon."

Anakin kept his eyes on the screen as he whispered back, "What do you mean?"

"That's you," she repeated, nodding at the screen. "'The richest man in town.' That's what you are, Ann. You've got a beautiful wife who thinks the galaxy of you, a mentor who loves you like a brother, and friends who'll stand by you through anything. That makes you richer than most people'll ever be."

As the ending song in the drama crescendoed, Anakin squeezed Gilraen's hand, his heart flooded with warmth that penetrated every part of his being. "Thanks, Gil."

Maybe, just maybe, it was true.

"_Remember, no man is a failure who has friends__."_

—Clarence Oddbody, _It's a Wonderful Life_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Welp, that's it!

…Made you look. xD Okay, so it's not finished just yet, but this could have been a good finale right here. The importance of the epilogue in this fic and the prologue in the sequel is that they bridge the gap between the two fics. The epilogue ties up some ends and leaves others still hanging, and the coming prologue shows you were those ends have gone in the past few years.

Only last Christmas did I see _It's a Wonderful Life_ for the first time. Now, it's one of my favorite movies of all time. It has so much _heart_ to it! You just don't get films like that anymore. And it wasn't until just a couple of weeks ago that I thought of using it as something Anakin would watch with at least Obi-Wan in this chapter—and it wasn't even until I wrote it that the movie wove into the heart of _this_ story. That was completely unexpected and absolutely fantastic. Anakin, it's actually a wonderful life.

The scene with Palpatine… ohhh, I've been excited about the chance to write that scene all summer long! To write him as Sidious is one thing, which I've done long before ever setting out on this fic. But to write him as the _Chancellor_, as a grandfather figure to Anakin… that was _absolutely_ delicious. It truly was. The way he acts so affectionately and sincerely… you've got to give the man one thing: he's a five-star actor, hands down. He gives you just enough truth to be believable and incredibly dangerous.

See you before the end of the month!

_**Please review!**_


	14. Epilogue: Miracles

**Disclaimer:**

Can you believe I never did a disclaimer for this story? O.O Oh well—we all know Star Wars isn't mine. If it were, you would be _buying_ this story from your local bookstore or Amazon. Disclaimers are silly—except when they're YouTube disclaimers. Then, you need all the legal backup you can get!

**Author's Note:**

The epilogue at last! As the story now stands, I've received over 3,200 hits, 9 favorites, 12 alerts, 41 reviews, 20 different reviewers, and 8 readers who reviewed more than once. Thank you so much, guys! *hugs all around*

That being said, I'd like to recognize two people for their continual support: **Historian 1912** and **Pearlmaidenredskyla**. "Pearl," ever since you started reading, you've been reviewing, and I can't thank you enough for that. You even gave me a suggestion that really helped move the story forward, and you've been a constant encouragement. Historian, without your request for the completion of this fic a year ago, it probably would never have been finished, let alone uploaded to FFN. And your so-called "rants" always make me smile, especially when you apologize for them.

_Muchas gracias_, you two!

**To my reviewers:**

Pearlmaidenredskyla: THAAAANK YOUUUU! xD "See, I can do it, too." (Cookies if you recognize the quote.) Updating now, lol.

Historian 1912: Well, this story has taken some directions that I certainly never foresaw. I'm glad you think it worth the wait. By fanfic standards… oh, I don't know. I think it could have been a lot better, at least in mechanics. *smiles* I mean, have you ever _seen_ the work of people like Obaona and Yesac? Ah, puts me to shame! But thank you!

Oh, but this epilogue is the absolute _climax_ of the whole fic! It's the last-but-not-least piece we need before going on to RotS! And it may be cliché to say that this is the beginning rather than the end, but it's true. This story is only a prelude—much-needed, but a prelude, nonetheless—to a saga that will cover a lot of ground, time, and people. It's the information that you need to understand what's going on, and why things are going to happen the way they will. If you enjoyed _this_ fic, I _promise_ you'll _love_ the sequel. I also promise that the _third_ installment _will be even better_. …Oh Force, I'm literally trembling just _thinking_ about it!

**==Epilogue==**

**Miracles**

Anakin ran down the steps from the balcony, almost colliding with Dormé coming up. "Sorry!" they said simultaneously.

Dormé smiled briefly. "I think Dan might need your help with Master Kenobi," she told him.

Anakin exhaled and ran a hand through his cropped hair. "If he's getting cold feet again…" he muttered, stalking away. Over his shoulder, he called back, "Thanks, Dormé!"

"You're welcome!"

The newly-minted Jedi Knight hurried through the Naberrie family villa, headed for the room that Obi-Wan was using. On the way, he passed by Siri's room, with Padmé leaning out of the door. "Anakin, let them know we're almost ready," she called.

"Will do," he smiled. She still looked a little heavy, but that was to be expected, only two months after the birth. In her two weeks of recuperation on Coruscant, Anakin had had enough time to go out on a mission and come back home. He'd visited her the night before she was released from the medcenter and, three months later, had been informed that he was a father again.

"_Ani, I want our new child to look like you."_

He was more than a little apprehensive, and not only because of the tragic outcome of Padmé's last pregnancy. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if the baby turned out to be another boy. Would he forget his first son in the joy of his second, or would the first son haunt him through the second?

Fortunately, he didn't have to deal with that ambivalence for very long. In Padmé's sixth month, she scheduled a brief visit with her family that lengthened when she gave premature birth to a small but healthy daughter, with a fine layer of soft dark hair and huge eyes the color of the midday sky. Anakin himself had carefully pulled his baby girl out of the birth canal, sensing an instant connection to her such as he'd never felt before with anyone—not even his wife.

They named her Lúthien.

A month later had come Jabiim, the darkest days of the war thus far and perhaps some of the bloodiest days the galaxy had ever seen. Obi-Wan had been captured and presumed dead, and Anakin made decisions there that he knew would haunt him forever.

Shoving aside the recent dark memories, Anakin pushed open his now-former Master's door and stepped inside.

* * *

Pulling away from the door, Padmé stood on her tiptoes to adjust the hairpins holding the veil in place. "Where's Rabé when you need her?" she muttered. "She was the best at hairdressing."

"You should've tried harder to get her," Sabé smirked from her corner, where she held a two-month-old Lúthien.

"At every number I called her, she was somewhere else!" Padmé protested. "It was a wild mynock chase."

"Shh—you're going to bother the baby," Sabé smiled roguishly.

It hadn't taken the media long to get wind of Senator Amidala's child, and rumors immediately began to fly concerning the baby's father. A mere two days after the news broke out, Padmé held a press conference, stating that she was indeed married but that she preferred to keep her husband's identity a secret for now, for security reasons. Sabé Janea, the woman who'd once been her decoy, quickly arrived at Padmé's apartment in the 500 Republica and established herself as the caretaker of her best friend's daughter—much to Padmé and Dormé's relief.

"_I can work just as well from here as I can at home. Better, even—I'll be with _you_ all the time."_

In the months that followed Padmé's descent from the throne, the firebrand Sabé had taken up political writing. Nowadays, she managed to find enough time to keep writing while taking care of the small baby. Padmé was comforted with the knowledge that Sabé was a more-than-adequate guardian for Lúthien—the former handmaiden had, at the age of thirteen, come out of her combat classes with the best scores on record. With her skills, Sabé could easily have eked out a living for herself on the Fringe.

"Argh! Padmé, that's pulling on my hair!"

"Sorry, Siri!" Padmé apologized, irritated with herself for letting her mind drift. She made a quick adjustment. "Better?"

"Yes."

"Easy does it, Pad," Sabé advised, dark eyes twinkling. Living with Sabé once more had quickly reminded Padmé just how irritating her friend could be at times.

"Shush," Padmé ordered.

"Are we _almost_ done?" Siri complained.

"_Yes_," Padmé insisted. "Just one more minute."

"I feel like a porcelain doll!"

"You _look_ like a porcelain doll," Sabé grinned, swaying slightly for the baby's benefit.

"_Big_ help, Sabé," Padmé shot back.

"All right, that does it—makeup's coming off," Siri said at the same time.

"It's _not_ that much makeup—now hold still!" Padmé chided.

* * *

"I can't do this," Obi-Wan decided, moving away from the mirror.

"Yeees, you can," Dan said firmly, taking Obi-Wan by the shoulders and steering him back towards the mirror.

"Dan—" Obi-Wan began to protest.

At that moment, Anakin entered the room. Sizing up the situation in an instant, he smirked and folded his arms. "Now's no time to get cold feet, Master," he warned mockingly. "You've got a beautiful woman just a few doors away who's waiting to say her vows to you."

"Knowing Siri, she's no happier with getting dressed up than I am," Obi-Wan retorted, face flushing.

"Be that as it may," Anakin said breezily, "there was no way Padmé, Dan, Gil, and I were going to let you two get hitched in your Jedi robes."

"_You_ did!"

Anakin's eyes widened with innocence. "Only 'cause we didn't have time to find a suit that fit. We had enough time with _you_."

"Lucky me," Obi-Wan groaned. It was mostly in good fun, really—his mind dwelt more on the rather frightening prospect of saying "I do." Good thing he hadn't even _tried_ to eat lunch—his stomach wouldn't have been able to hold it down.

He focused on his reflection in the mirror. He was finally starting to fill out once more—his imprisonment on Rattatak had left him quite skeletal in form. His skin was still vaguely transparent, and lines that likely wouldn't fade now creased his face. But his ginger-colored hair was regaining its shine, and his blue-grey eyes no longer looked quite so faded.

And he was wearing a dark blue tuxedo. Having to wear one in the first place was bad enough, but he'd flatly refused to wear black.

Black reminded him too much of Rattatak, and Ventress.

The two younger Jedi Knights helped him finish _preening_ himself. After a minute, Dan stood back and whistled. "_Wow_, Obi-Wan—if you looked like this all the time, you'd have fangirls by the thousands!"

"Yes, well, there's only one 'girl' I'm interested in right now, thank you very much," Obi-Wan returned curtly.

"Oh, lighten _up_, Master!" Anakin advised, clapping Obi-Wan's shoulder and grinning. "It's your wedding day!"

* * *

Siri resigned herself to her fate with nary a sigh. Master Yoda often taught the younglings at the Temple that _a Jedi knows not pain_.

She begged to differ.

If Padmé pulled at her hair one more time, Siri just might have to forgo her resignation and order that the veil be dropped.

Gilraen swung into the room just then, her own small son in her arms and supported on her hip. "Hey, hurry up, Padmé—Dan says Obi-Wan's ready."

"All right—we'll be right there," Padmé nodded resolutely. "Aaand… there! Finished. Well, Siri, what do you think?"

What did she think? Siri stared at herself with wonder, slowly twirling and watching the white shimmersilk swish around her ankles. With the white gown and the pale blue blossoms in her curled golden hair, she looked like some kind of fairy princess. "Padmé," she breathed.

After a few moments, she pulled herself together enough to add, "I never _dreamed_ I'd ever look this pretty."

"It's not my doing," the younger woman smiled. "I only touched you up a bit—you're radiant enough on your own."

For the first time in a long time, Siri blushed. This wedding was doing crazy things to her.

Then again, she was so incredibly blessed. Ten weeks ago, she hadn't dared to hope that this day would ever come, though she'd dared to believe that Obi-Wan was still alive.

Though the Jedi Council and Obi-Wan's own Padawan had given him up for dead, Siri hadn't. She promised Anakin that she would bring Obi-Wan home and, several weeks later, she'd returned to the Temple with a pale, wounded, but very much alive Obi-Wan. The rescue of four Jedi in less than a year's time (two more Knights besides Anakin and Obi-Wan) earned her the nickname _Finder_.

She didn't care what they called her. All she cared about was that the man who meant more to her than anyone else in the galaxy had survived.

And, from his medbay bed, Obi-Wan had asked her to marry him.

Past her uncharacteristic and quite embarrassing tears, Siri had said "yes."

* * *

"With this ring, as a token of my love and affection, I thee wed," Siri murmured, sliding the ring onto Obi-Wan's finger.

The priest smiled and said, "By virtue of the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. _What God hath joined together, let no man separate_. You may kiss the bride."

Obi-Wan froze, but only for a moment. He carefully lifted the veil and leaned down, gently pressing his lips against Siri's. She pressed back, placing her hands on his neck as he wound his arms around her.

It was something bright and beautiful, this kiss—like a star, warm and alive and unmistakably _real_. Eternity compacted into a few precious moments in which no one else existed in the entire universe. If they could freeze Time right now, right here… they would be satisfied.

But they had to come up for air sometime. And, because of those vows, because of those "I do's," because of those rings… they were going to have that eternity.

Together.

About five seconds after pulling away, they remembered that they actually _weren't_ the only two people in the universe, and that there was a small audience now enthusiastically applauding them. As one, they turned to that audience, he with an amazingly tender expression and she with a brilliant smile.

Elladan and Gilraen Starrider were beaming, Brendan Starrider was grinning widely, Sabé and Dormé were cheering, and Anakin and Padmé Skywalker were looking decidedly misty-eyed.

Obi-Wan and Siri Kenobi held each other's hands for the first time as husband and wife, and knew they would never let go.

* * *

"When do they have to ship out?" Siri heard Gilraen murmur to Dan.

"Tomorrow," Dan murmured back. "I think that, later this summer, they'll be in Christophsis."

"Christophsis?" Gilraen echoed. "What's out there?"

"The Seps."

Siri tuned out, already well-aware of that information. She turned to speak to her husband—her husband!—but Anakin stood from the table and cleared his throat. "May I have your attention, please?" he called. "Thank you."

"Anakin, what are you doing?" Obi-Wan asked suspiciously—and with more than a hint of parental weariness.

"As you know," Anakin continued, as if he hadn't heard his former Master, "it's the duty of the best man to raise the toast—"

"You're just fortunate you're actually _old_ enough to drink," Obi-Wan retorted.

Siri couldn't help it—she laughed. As did the others.

Anakin adopted a look of wounded dignity and drew himself up. "Obi-Wan, _please_—I'm trying to make a speech here."

"You're _trying_ to make a fool out of me," Obi-Wan returned sarcastically.

Anakin's dignified expression turned wide-eyed and innocent. "Master, _I_ don't _have_ to."

Siri's own blue eyes widened—_Oh, he did _not_ just say that!_

A pregnant pause fell over the balcony. Brendan looked as if he was enthusiastically expecting a fight, his brother's and sister-in-law's expressions were somewhere between surprised and amused, Sabé looked amused, Dormé looked horrified, and Padmé just looked stunned.

And Obi-Wan stared at his former Padawan in absolute shock. Anakin merely arched an eyebrow.

_Clip a kid's braid,_ Siri mused, _and he thinks he can say any blasted thing he wants_. Tired of the silence, she cleared her throat quietly and murmured, "Anakin, why don't you just get on with the toast."

"As you wish, Mrs. Kenobi," he said courteously, bowing deeply.

Obi-Wan glanced aside sardonically.

"Ahem," Anakin continued. "As I was about to say… Obi-Wan and Siri have known each other for pretty much all their lives. However, I have it from good sources that not all those years were congenial—"

"What sources?" Sabé asked, curious.

"Oh, a couple of their longtime comrades," Anakin replied easily. "Now, you may not believe this, but _Siri_ was pretty by-the-book in her early years, and our _dear_ Obi-Wan was actually quite an, ahem, loose cannon."

"I was young and foolish—I blame society," Obi-Wan deadpanned.

Laughter rippled across the balcony.

Anakin grinned. "That caused quite a few clashes in their childhood and teens. However—" his grin faded—"when they later figured out that they loved each other, they decided to bury that love. They wouldn't see each other again for the next ten years."

Siri's hand found Obi-Wan's and squeezed it.

"It wasn't until just last summer that they realized that they couldn't bury that love anymore," Anakin continued, much more seriously, "and it wasn't until very recently that they decided that life was too short _not_ to love. So here we are today, celebrating the consummation of their love, and the miracles that brought us here." He raised his glass. "To Obi-Wan and Siri. Eighteen years of complications have culminated in your marriage at last. Heaven knows you deserve it."

"To Obi-Wan and Siri!" the others called, raising their glasses.

* * *

As per tradition, the Kenobis had the first dance to themselves. The song was "Just the Way You Look," the song during which they'd shared their first kiss.

And, as before, Obi-Wan sang it quietly to Siri.

After that, the Skywalkers and the Starriders joined in. Brendan, despite the twelve-year age difference between himself and Dormé, acted the gentleman and asked the handmaiden to dance with him. Brendan was actually some inches taller, if not quite as graceful as the young woman. Sabé contented herself to handle both her own charge and two-year-old Beren Starrider while queuing the songs on the player. The last song she queued up was not a romantic piece, but the couples danced to it, nonetheless.

_Many nights, we've prayed_

_With no proof anyone could hear_

_In our hearts, a hopeful song_

_We barely understood_

_Now we are not afraid_

_Although we know there's much to fear_

_We were moving mountains long_

_Before we knew we could_

That evening was the first time Anakin and Padmé had ever danced with each other, not having had such a luxury at their own wedding. They cherished every moment of it.

_There can be miracles_

_When you believe_

_Though hope is frail_

_It's hard to kill_

_Who knows what miracles_

_You can achieve_

_When you believe?_

_Somehow, you will_

_You will when you_

_Believe_

"I can see why Padmé chose this song for last," Obi-Wan murmured, leading Siri in a graceful spin before pulling her back to him.

"I think it's for all of us," she murmured back, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder.

_In this time of fear_

_When prayer so often proved in vain_

_Hope seemed like the summer birds_

_Too swiftly flown away_

_Yet now I'm standing here_

_With heart so full, I can't explain_

_Seeking faith and speaking words_

_I never thought I'd say_

"Despite all that's happened to us," Padmé quietly told Anakin as they swayed gently to the music, "I think we've been very blessed. I think we've seen a lot of miracles."

He smiled, a rare full smile that lit up his cerulean eyes. "I _know_ we have."

_There can be miracles_

_When you believe_

_Though hope is frail_

_It's hard to kill_

_Who knows what miracles_

_You can achieve_

_When you believe?_

_Somehow, you will_

_You will when you_

_Believe_

**==To Be Continued==**

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**Author's Note:**

Can you believe it? It's actually _finished_! …I feel such a sense of accomplishment: this is the first chaptered fic I've ever completed.

Okay, some odds and ends here, and then I'll give you a little sneak-preview of the sequel (title changed from _Mo Ghile Mear_ to _Destiny's Call_).

-In the last chapter, Sidious tells Anakin that he once watched _It's a Wonderful Life_. In all seriousness, I'm sure that he did, and that he mocked the film thoroughly.

-Lúthien Skywalker is a character I've had for nearly four years now. At her earliest point, she wasn't worth reading about at all. As I wrote more and developed my skills, she grew and developed, as well. Early on in writing this fic, I'd debated over whether or not I'd really keep her for the published (and infinitely better) version of my longtime alternate universe. In the end, I decided that Lúthien is just as near and dear to my heart as this saga itself is. And right now, she's only an adorable baby girl—she can't hurt anything. =) With the story developing the way it is, I'm not the least bit worried about any pretense of Mary Sue, and I hope you won't be, either!

-This epilogue introduces Sabé into this universe. She won't be a star player in the continuing story, but she _will_ be the sort of supporting character that the stars can't do without. Also, I'm trying to base my characterization of her off of her actress, Kiera Knightley—specifically, as Robin Hood's daughter Gwen in _Princess of Thieves_ and as Elizabeth Bennet in _Pride and Prejudice_, which are the only films I've seen Kiera in, aside from TPM. So Sabé's a firebrand, witty and definitely sardonic at times.

-Cookies if you recognized the line "Makeup's coming off." It's from Focus on the Family radio drama _Adventures in Odyssey_, "Tom for Mayor, Part 2."

-The wedding scene was written off of a roleplay my best friend and I once did, with our characters getting hitched. It's, of course, edited to fit the situation, but it was nice to have preexisting scene that already worked really well.

-The toasting scene was inspired by a _Stargate SG-1_ fanfic. Very cute and funny. Anakin fit the bill perfectly.

-"I was young and foolish—I blame society." Cookies of your choice to whomever recognized _this_ line. Any takers? Okay, you won't believe it. *giggles* It's actually from Piglet, in a _New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh_ episode, "The Slusher." Yeah, you read right. *laughs* It's a line that always, _always_ cracks me up, and I've always wanted to use it in something.

-Obi-Wan singing "Just the Way You Look" to Siri as they dance is inspired by… me! It's actually something I did in a one-shot shipper fic for my OTP in another fandom. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

-I've had a little bit of the scenes with Padmé prepping Siri and Ani and Dan prepping Obi-Wan for over two years now. Unfortunately, that bit is lost. Fortunately, I had it more or less memorized, and it was so great to finally write the "chapter" I've had in my head for closer to three years!

* * *

_**Sneak-Preview!**_

"Obi-Wan, you are to go to Utapau and defeat General Grievous. Anakin and Ahsoka, you are to arrest the Separatist Council on Mustafar."

"Well, here we go again. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi lasso stork."

"Only now… at the end… do you understand."

"You forget, my _lord_—Sith lords are our speciality."

"He's my husband."

**-END SPOILERS-**

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_**Thank you all for reading, and please return for **_**Across the Stars, Book II: Destiny's Call**_** tomorrow! Please review!**_


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